


Lurking Shadows

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Category: Gravity Falls, Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn
Genre: Cipher is a murderous asshole, Dipper is Jekyll and Bill is Hyde, F/M, Heavy Implications of Wendip, Mabel is Emma but without the incest, Mentions of Insanity, Multiple Deaths, Not A Happy Ending, Sexual Violence, Soos is Poole, Stan is Utterson and Sir Danvers combined, Suicide, Swearing, Wendy is Lucy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Dipper Pines has always been mocked for his particular interests in science. He's heard all the taunts - from being called a "devil worshipper" to "ending up just like his parents" - and has grown to find ways to ignore them all. He's finished his prized creation, a formula destined to separate the good and evil in mankind's souls. All that is left is to test his project.</p><p>And one fateful night, when Dr. Pines decides it is now or never, he ends up creating a monster...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Need to Know

  If he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was partly to blame. If he had only tried harder to be understanding, to work _with_ him instead of against, perhaps everything would have gone down differently. Maybe he would have been able to control the beast inside. Maybe he wouldn’t be standing with an unbearably heavy heart in this godforsaken place. Maybe he wouldn’t be yearning for a second chance, to change the events leading up to now.

 

  _You could have stopped this. You could have saved him. You had a choice and you have clearly chosen poorly. This is all your fault._

 

 He heard the words echoing in his head constantly, causing a slight tremor to run down his spine in horror. What if he had acted differently? What if he had been more careful and cautious? Despite all of the mocking taunts he could always hear, he knew deep inside that the choice in the end had not been his. He was not given a choice on what to do about his views of the world; he merely abided by it.

 

 The victim (and catalyst) of the past two months was the one who had made the choice, the one who had decided to rid the world of a sinister evil lurking among them.

 

 It was ironic how that had been his main goal all along, and now he had indeed accomplished it. Despite the fact that he had also been the creator of such evil as well, of course.

 

 He recalled the start of it all, recalling entries from the journal with a heavy heart as the voice of someone long gone echoed in his mind and memories that were both his and others’ swam before his eyes...

 

* * *

 

 

  London was well-known for being critical of the lower class, which visitors knew upon arrival. What they did _not_ know just then was how critical the upper-class was to one another as well.

 

 That much the young doctor in the lab knew well enough from experiences, he thought bitterly to himself. Dr. Dipper Pines tousled his already unruly locks as he chewed his lip, staring deep in concentration at the maroon leather-bound journal before him. To him, the journal was everything: he had written all of his recorded results, all of his experiments and musings about his project, all of his wishes for the world inside the tome. If he were ever to lose it...

 

 Dipper shuddered at the mere thought. No, no one was allowed to look inside the journal. Not even his family knew the contents, only that they weren’t to peek inside.

 

 He briefly wondered how any of his colleagues would react upon reading his findings. _They’d most likely scoff and toss it aside like filth_ , he thought to himself as the bitterness crept back into his heart.

 

 Despite being upper-class himself, Dipper was not a respectable young man in the eyes of London’s inhabitants. He was constantly scorned by his colleagues, snickered at by younger boys in the streets, and turned away by the women. The only people who defended him were his family, which was to be expected.

 

  _All this because of my good intentions._ Dipper sighed to himself and turned back to his journal entry.

 

_June 16, 1884_

 

  _I feel I am close to unraveling the truth behind my experiments, perhaps closer than ever before. I have discovered through my research that good and evil are two separate wills found in mankind, affecting our every choice and having the power to ruin lives. According to what I believe I have uncovered, the two can be separated completely from man if I can find the formula to maintain the good and banish the evil forever._

 

_Unfortunately, I do not yet have a test subject. All I need now is to convince the Board of Governors at the hospital to lend me a volunteer for the test and we shall see what my formula does._

 

_My family is unlikely for the job, no matter how many times my sister has offered to help. I simply could not risk either of them being changed without knowing of the consequences first. If I ever were to hurt Mabel or my great-uncle... I do not know what I would do with myself._

 

_Thus, you see, the experiment must occur with a willing volunteer who is not afraid to risk their wellbeing for such a noble cause._

 

_Until my next entry,_

 

_Dr. Dipper Pines_

 

 The young doctor nodded as he reread the entry, approving of his words. It was true: his family simply couldn’t take part in this endeavor, no matter how many times Mabel had suggested helping with his “project”, as she called it. What if he was wrong and the experiment only left the evil aspect? What if the formula killed the test subject? There were far too many “what if’s” left unchecked, and Dipper could not allow any of those to occur to his family on his watch.

 

 However, this meant pleading with his colleagues for a volunteer for the experiment. The young man knew exactly what they thought of his endeavors and knew being granted a test subject was easier said than done by a long shot.

 

  _If only they saw the world the way I do_ , he thought sadly.

 

 London seemed to picture good and evil as nothing more than who we were, not two individual aspects of nature. They believed he was a mad man, trying to corrupt God’s will by experimenting on mankind like we were all animals.

 

 Dipper knew better though; his experiments couldn’t _possibly_ be wrong! He had done too much research and learned too much to simply stop because of everyone’s doubts.

 

 He just had to prove that he could change the world, show the Board solid evidence of his claims, and then they would surely have to believe him.

 

 Dipper closed the journal and tucked it into his blue vest. He’d deal with the judgments of his colleagues later on. For now, however, he was late and his great-uncle was going to kill him.

 

 Removing his lab coat and hurrying out of his lab, the doctor rushed down the halls of the estate, immediately registering the voices coming from the direction of the ballroom. Apparently they had started without him. That was to be expected; he had, after all, told his sister to do just that if he lost track of the time. This had become a sort of routine for Dipper now, a bad habit that his great-uncle frowned upon (especially since it meant trying to explain away his absence).

 

 Straightening his vest quickly in an effort to appear presentable and not at all flustered or late, Dipper entered the ballroom. The gold chandelier was alight, casting a bright glow upon all of the guests’ faces. Most were mingling about and talking amongst themselves, appearing to be enjoying themselves. They all were dressed to perfection, not a hair out of place, unlike himself. He caught himself narrowing his eyes in anger at this and hurriedly looked away. Despite being upper-class himself, he had never been concerned much with appearances and only dressed nicely for his family’s sake. All of the others he had met were snobby and conceited, constantly fussing over their looks.

 

 Dipper’s gaze fixed on a familiar portly figure to his left, dressed smartly and standing quietly off to the side. He couldn’t help but smile slightly at the family butler’s attempts to appear serious like the rest of the guests. Soos (short for Jesús, but nobody called him by that name) was lighthearted and one of the few bright spots in his day on a daily basis due to how much he reminded Dipper of his sister. He would try valiantly to be serious and end up consequently amusing himself with something small like what the word perfect actually meant or Dipper’s bags under his eyes. The fact that he was struggling to maintain a straight face tonight made the young doctor chuckle and note mentally to talk to his great-uncle about raising the butler’s pay.

 

 As his gaze continued to wander, his eyes landed on a small group congregating around a figure adorn in an excessive amount of pink ruffles. This time Dipper snorted and shook his head before heading that way to join the group. He should have guessed that she would be wearing such a bright color tonight, honestly.

 

 “...And then I told him off! The nerve of some people these days just amazes me. Can you believe it? Oh, Dipper! You’re here!” It took him a minute to focus on what his sister was saying at such rapid speeds, a smile tugging at his lips involuntarily.

 

 “Of course. You didn’t think I was going to miss the celebration, did you?”

 

 Mabel giggled, ignoring the disapproving looks sent Dipper’s way at the sight of his disheveled appearance. “No. You always come in the end, brother. Grunkle Stan might be a bit angry, though. He didn’t know you were going to miss at least half an hour of the party.”

 

 He didn’t comment on his twin’s odd way of shortening their great-uncle’s title, used to it after over twenty years of hearing the word.

 

 “Oh, hell. I forgot about him. He’s going to have my hide for this, Mabel.”

 

 Mabel excused herself from her group of friends and pulled her brother off to the side away from the guests, her expression growing more serious than it had been seconds prior. Dipper couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that his sister had more friends than he would ever obtain in his lifetime (the current amount being none). The fact that she was related to a “mad man” didn’t seem to scare off any of her companions, which was a slightly irritating thought.

 

 Now that the guests were not paying much mind to the twins, Mabel’s tone grew quiet and subdued. “Dipper, Stan was furious when I told him you’d be late. He will not let you get away with this easily. You promised that you would stop doing this.”

 

 Dipper groaned. “I know, I should have guessed that he’d be angry. I lost track of the time while doing research and–”

 

 “ _I’m_ not the one you have to make excuses to,” his twin reminded him.

 

 Dipper knew in his heart that she was right, but he wished that he didn’t have to talk this over with his great-uncle. _Again_.

 

 “I know. I just...I feel like he doesn’t understand me sometimes, Mabel. He’s always trying to get me to talk about something other than my work and to socialize more.”

 

 Mabel smiled at her brother, remembering the last time he attempted to socialize with others not in his line of work. “Stan cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it sometimes.”

 

 He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I guess. The day I see Stan show affection will be the day I die. I don’t think he’s ever actually _told_ either of us that he cares about our wellbeings, Mabel.”

 

 “I _know_ he does care, and you should too,” scolded his sister, dropping her smile in seconds. “Stan isn’t just a rude older man. He has a heart.”

 

 “I wasn’t saying that he doesn’t,” Dipper pointed out.

 

 Mabel sighed, fluffing out the bustle in the back of her skirt more than it already was. At twenty-eight, she was stunning with her curly brown hair and rosy cheeks. Unlike her brother, she was more sociable and enjoyed company, often visiting friends during the holidays. Dipper knew that a few young men were keeping a watchful eye on her, wanting to marry her, but he himself disliked the idea of seeing his sister being married off to some snob who only cared for his sister’s physical appearance.

 

 “So,” his sister ventured with a bright smile, “how’s your ‘experiment’ coming along?” Judging by her tone on the word “experiment”, she was used to hearing this word quite often in conversations.

 

 Nevertheless, he was grateful for the change of subject, especially since Dipper knew his twin was probably his best (and only) supporter.

 

 “I am nearly done,” Dipper said in a hushed tone, not noticing the small smile that lit up his face. “I just need to evaluate the risks and speak with the Board of Governors about the tests.”

 

 Mabel’s brown eyes grew owlishly wide in excitement. “Really? That’s brilliant, Dipper!” She drew him into a tight embrace and he only hesitated a mere moment before chuckling and wrapping his arms around her. “It feels like you’ve been working on this for _ages_!”

 

 “It’s only been a year,” he tried to protest, but his sister just hugged him tighter and continued speaking.

 

 “Maybe if this experiment gets done, you’ll have more time to do things with Grunkle Stan and me. It’s been a long time since you’ve gone out of town with us or done much together with the family in general.”

 

 Dipper felt a small twinge of unease in his gut at the last few words. _The family._ The way she said this made him feel slightly guilty, as if it were his fault for what had happened. They had only been twelve when the incident had occurred, but he still recalled it clear as day...

 

 “When are you going to talk to the Board of Governors, Dipper?”

 

 His sister’s inquiry yanked the young man out of his memories and he shook his head internally to focus once more. “Most likely tomorrow or the day after. I want to just get through the discussion as quickly as possible.”

 

 Mabel smiled brighter, as if she had just realized something. “Wait, our birthday is in two days! That’ll make it even more special. Why are you so nervous to talk to the Board anyways?”

 

 Dipper ran a hand through his hair for the third time that night, annoyance already building up inside of him as he recalled the countless other meetings he had had with his colleagues. “They don’t understand my work, Mabel. They think I’m mad, that I am going against the Bible, and that I can’t do anything correctly. Not one of them supports me.”

 

 “Oh...” Mabel’s smile dropped. “How likely is it that they will approve of your experiment now that it is almost done?”

 

 “There’s a ninety percent chance that I may be walking out of the discussion with nothing in hand.”

 

 Dipper didn’t miss how his twin’s eyes shone with sadness. She knew better than most how arduously he had been working on this project, how many sleepless nights he had invested into creating the perfect formula. She knew how much this meant to him personally.

 

 “Well, if they don’t approve of your experiment, they’re ignorant!” Mabel tried to sound cheerful and encouraging for her brother’s sake. “You have gotten this far, Dipper. They can’t possibly shut you down without any real reasons, yes?”

 

  _You don’t know my colleagues like I do, sister._ “Hopefully not.”

 

 Mabel visibly brightened at his words. “See! They can’t ignore you this time. I’m sure it will go well.”

 

 He nodded, trying to appear confident about his sister’s declaration. She didn’t know how inconsiderable and rude his colleagues were sometimes (no, who was he kidding? They were _always_ rude to him). Dipper did not have high hopes for his experiment’s success when it concerned this particular discussion with the Board of Governors.

 

 Another part Mabel knew nothing of was the fact that he still required a test subject. He would not mention this in her presence for fear that she would demand to help with this dilemma. Dipper could not be certain of her safety if she tested the formula. Hell, he could not guarantee _anyone’s_ safety! Dipper had never tested the formula on anyone or anything ever. Like he written in the journal earlier, no one from his family would be testing the formula until he was completely positive that it was safe.

 

 “Dipper?” The young doctor blinked back to reality to find his twin waving a hand comically in front of his face, doing a rather poor job of hiding her amused smile.

 

 “Yes? Did you say something?”

 

 Mabel giggled at the question. “No, but you were staring off at nothing. Did you start daydreaming again?”

 

 “What? No, I was just thinking, Mabel.” Despite his firm tone, his face flushed a bright pink in embarrassment. He seemed to be doing this quite often as of late.

 

Mabel giggled again, this time at her brother’s blatant embarrassment. “No need to act so defendant about it. I was just asking.”

 

 “Dipper!”

 

 At the sound of the familiar gruff voice, Dipper’s heart sank like a stone to the floor. He gave his sister an annoyed look (which she returned with a small encouraging smile) before heading off to meet the voice’s owner.

 

Stanford Pines stood off to the left of the guests in the ballroom, his arms folded over his chest and narrowed eyes enough of a hint to know that he was furious. There might as well have been steam spewing out of his great-uncle’s large ears to give away his emotions more obviously. Thankfully none of the party guests seemed to be watching the two men as Dipper drew closer, schooling himself into wearing a blank expression.

 

“Yes, sir?” He struggled not to sound annoyed when pronouncing the last word.

 

 Stan’s eyes narrowed down to slits, which had seemed impossible given how small they already were moments ago. “Don’t mock me. You know exactly what. Guess who didn’t uphold their promise specifically stating that they would not be _late_ to _any_ future gatherings under this roof?”

 

 Oh, hell. He really was in for it this time, wasn’t he?

 

 “I lost track of time and rushed here as fast as possible,” Dipper said as politely as he could to keep his own irritation in check.

 

 “You were in the lab again, weren’t you?”

 

 There was no point in denying it. “Yes, I was.”

 

 “I suppose you had business to take care of?”

 

 “Yes, I did.”

 

 “Was that business more important than this party, Dipper?”

 

 The younger man met his great-uncle’s eyes and thought over his reply carefully. _Was_ his work more important and valuable than a party? Absolutely. However, if he said this so boldly, he would never hear the end of the argument.

 

“To me, it was,” Dipper answered carefully. “I am almost done with my research and I was merely rechecking that I had everything completed.”

 

 Stan massaged his temples with his fingers, the anger still brewing inside, but not quite as intensely. “Dipper, you know how much it means to your sister and I that you show up at these celebrations, don’t you? Your sister may be older, but she looks up to you and when you are half an hour late to a party... It gives a bad impression.”

 

“A bad impression upon whom? You? Mabel?”

 

 The doctor’s harsh tone was not concealed well enough to hide his annoyance, and Stan gave the younger a long unreadable look that morphed into exasperation after a good minute.

 

“You believe this is a joke? I am trying to help you, trying to improve your reputation and keep you from disappointing your sister and me any longer by ignoring our requests. You have not kept any of your promises this past year when we ask you to _please_ spend more time with us or to simply be on time for once! Do you have _any_ _idea_ how irritated it makes Mabel when you do not make an appearance for a good half hour after the celebrations have already begun?”

 

 Dipper snorted in disbelief. “Mabel knows how important my work is, and she would tell me if she was angry with me. She has always supported me; she is the only one who ever _has_ , in fact! I would prefer if you kept your opinions to yourself when concerning my research because I am _trying_ to keep my promises, in case you did not notice. I _want_ to fix my late arrivals and frequent late nights spent away from you both, but I am also thinking of the good of this earth. My results could save mankind if successful, and I cannot simply stop when I have come this far in a year.”

 

 “I did not tell you to halt your experiments,” his great-uncle corrected. “I am asking for you to pay a bit more mind to how this affects those around you, especially your sister. Because yes, Dipper, she _is_ saddened by your absences. She cares much more than I do about your work, but she also yearns to spend time with her twin brother more.”

 

 Before Dipper could think of a response, the older gentleman turned his back and walked across the ballroom to greet a pair of men drinking heavily. It was blatant that the matter was over for the night, but the doctor’s head was still buzzing and his blood boiled at the thought of being told to pay more mind to his sister’s emotions. He wasn’t insensitive! He knew Mabel was melancholy at times when he returned late and always found ways to make it up to her by spending time conversing about something related to her life and her mates. How could Stan say that he did not think about her feelings?

 

Risking a quick glance at Stan to see if he was watching, the young man slipped unnoticed from the ballroom, heading for the kitchens to talk with Soos privately. The butler always ended up in the kitchens after a party, and lately Dipper (having realized where the butler disappeared off to late at night) had chosen to join him for company. Perhaps he would ask Soos for his opinion on Stan’s claim to Mabel being melancholy.

 

He just had to get through this night. Tomorrow would be a new day, the day where his goals were finally met and he shared his findings with the Board of Governors. He just needed to work his way through the next few hours without stressing over his research or great-uncle.

 

  _It will all be perfect tomorrow._


	2. Board of Governors

 Dipper’s hands were trembling worse than the time he had first stood up to give a speech in his secondary school. He tried to hide the tremors by stuffing them into his vest pockets, but this merely made his appearance seem improper and he removed them reluctantly.

 

 He was sitting in a small room at a chair at a wooden podium, awaiting the arrival of his colleagues. It had only been two days since he had double-checked his experiment’s potential and his anxiety over the current situation was steadily growing close to hyperventilation. Thousands of “what ifs” swam through the doctor’s head as he imagined the worst possible replies to his proposal for his research’s sake. It was going to be difficult to talk the Board into persuading him to use their supplies and to discuss a “mad” idea to change the world. The daunting task suddenly appeared very real as he sat in this chair to await his audience.

 

 _Escape while you can!_ A small voice in the back of his head was screaming in fear, crying out for him to run out of the building and head home.

 

 Would his fellow colleagues even decide to _come_ to the discussion? That inquiry sent a whole new wave of fright tingling through his veins. Hell, he should have planned this out much better before jumping upon the opportunity.

 

 As if right on cue, the doors swung open with a loud creak and four stiff-backed figures entered the room. Dipper stood at attention, praying that no one noted how unbelievably sweaty he had just become in the last minute alone.

 

 Among the four were three pompous upper-class individuals adorned in elegant fabrics and practically preening in their location once they found places to stand. The only female, Lady Pacifica, was adjusting her blonde ringlets ever so carefully, wearing a ghastly shade of purple so dark that it appeared nearly black to Dipper from where he stood, elaborate ruffles stretching about the material. It was clear to him that Pacifica had a rather odd liking to commenting on every person’s suit or dress, explaining the correct way to sew something or to redo a few stitches.

 

 The two gentlemen were smoothing their suits or fiddling with their canes in place. Lord Robert took a deep breath, glancing coldly at Dipper as per usual visits. The older man had a particular loathing for the doctor, something he had never understood, and was one of the most verbal in mocking Dipper. The other, Lord Gideon, was adorned in a blue suit and appeared dressed to perfection. His beady eyes flitted to where Dipper stood and a small condescending smirk flashed on his lips. Dipper glared at him before remembering himself, hiding his contempt for the infuriating man. Gideon was also one of the most verbal when mocking him - and to make matters much worse, he was smitten with Mabel. Thankfully his sister had better taste and wanted nothing to do with the man; Dipper didn't want to imagine being stuck as Gideon's brother-in-law.

 

 The final man was none other than his great-uncle, who didn't spare the young man a second glance as he walked in. One of the disadvantages of working in a similar line of business to your relatives was that they could not vote based upon bias. Unfortunately, Dipper was fairly certain that Stan wouldn't be voting in favor for him _anytime_ soon, so that meant impressing the other members of the Board was his only duty for now.

 

 The four closed the door and stood around the podium a good twenty feet away, Robert appearing bored already. Stan finally looked up at his great-nephew, nodding at him to begin. Something unreadable flashed in the old man's eyes but Dipper knew now wasn't the time to decipher such things. He took a steady breath, praying he did not stumble over his rehearsed speech (which he had spent over three hours on the previous night).

 

_Here they are. It's time._

 

 "Lords and lady, I have implored for your time and attention to discuss a matter I am sure you are somewhat familiar with: my ongoing experiments for the last year. Now, I understand that I-"

 

 A snicker arose from Pacifica, startling Dipper as he was speaking. She waved a hand in his direction, using the other to try and hide a smirk. "Oh, was that inappropriate? Dear me, I apologize. I didn't realize we were continuing _this_ tedious conversation."

 

 Dipper grit his teeth together for a second before responding politely, "I have only just begun speaking. Are you _already_ tired?"

 

 The blonde kept her hand over her mouth to hide the smirk, but it was clear from the glint in her eyes that she was mocking him. "Oh, yes. After all, we have been speaking about this matter for a full year, have we not? It has grown rather tedious quickly."

 

 Stan glanced at the young doctor, who noticed and didn't meet his eyes. Dipper found himself remembering why he hated the upper-class (save for his family) so passionately.

 

_Just make it through the discussion. Just make it through the next half hour, Dipper._

 

 “I see.” Dipper was not sure how to respond in a polite manner to her. “However, despite these doubts you have mentioned since the beginning, I stand here to explain that my research has finally paid off. I am nearly done with my formula at long last.”

 

 “Truly?” All heads turned to Gideon, who wore an expression of mild surprise. “You expect us to believe that after a year of listening to such outrageous blasphemy, _you_ have created a formula that will eliminate all evil in mankind?”

 

 Dipper found himself gripping the wood of the podium out of anger, his knuckles whitening ever so slowly. “As I have said, while my claims appear unrealistic I assure you that they are true.”

 

 Lady Pacifica snickered once more and Lord Gideon struggled to hide a smirk. Stan rubbed his temples tiredly as the other three blatantly expressed their mockery in their faces. It was clear to everyone what each of them thought about this statement.

 

 “Why, then, are you troubling us yet again with your trivial opinions on humanity and your work?” Gideon asked in annoyance.

 

_Here goes nothing._

 

 “I am addressing this due to my _one_ request involving your assistance. I require, for my experimentation...a human test subject.”

 

 Almost instantly the room erupted into chaos. Robert, who had not spoken a single word upon his arrival, began shouting at the top of his lungs. Pacifica and Gideon were gesturing wildly at Dipper and listing off dozens of reasons why he had gone completely mad. His great-uncle had his head in his hands, clearly groaning to himself. He appeared ready to leave the room due to exasperation.

 

 It was this that caused Dipper’s jaw to clench in anger and for him to stand straighter as he bellowed, “SILENCE!”

 

 The atmosphere grew tense as everyone (excluding Stan, who had not reacted to the uncharacteristically loud outburst) stared at the young doctor. Dipper found himself gripping the podium with white knuckles and hesitantly loosened his grip.

 

 “I understand your hesitance to comply – ” he began to say politely in a much softer tone, only to be interrupted by Gideon.

 

 “ _Hesitance_? This is not hesitance, _Pines._ ” The obvious contempt for the elder man was not concealed in his sneer. “No, this is blasphemy. Testing such a thing upon a living being would be catastrophic and unholy!”

 

 Dipper gritted his teeth together. The fool wasn’t even listening to him, was he? “I must disagree, for–”

 

 “This is lunacy!” Pacifica’s pale face was flushed with anger. “What if the experiment were to go wrong, Dr. Pines? What if that _subject_ were to be mortally wounded or traumatized by your so-called formula?”

 

 “If you would listen to me–”

 

 “You’re mad, that’s what you are! A right mad man, trying to test your ungodly chemicals on one of us! Your _experiments_ are going to be the death of us all!”

 

 Robert’s sudden shout caused Dipper to breathe heavily, struggling to regain his composure. In the back, he could spy his great-uncle shaking his head in exasperation at his efforts to save his reputation.

 

 “I beg of you: listen to me! I am certain that the side effects are nothing serious and that this experiment will work! Do you think I would not come to you if I was not certain of its success?”

 

 Robert snorted, a loathsome sneer creeping onto his face. “Listen to yourself. You think you can change the world? Is that it? You would risk the life of another in the ungodliness of your madness?”

 

 “It is not madness!”

 

 “Then what is it? It is not reason or science!”

 

 “Blasphemy!”

 

 “Sacrilege!”

 

 “Lies!”

 

 “Lunacy!”

 

 A terrible fury built up inside of Dipper’s heart, a flaming red filling the corners of his vision. Fools! They did not understand and they refused to!

 

 “Enough!”

 

 The chaotic uproar ceased as all heads swiveled as one to Stanford Pines, who was rubbing his temples wearily.

 

 “Perhaps we should vote upon the matter and quit arguing like children...?”The still quiet was all the answer he required.

 

 “All those in favor of supplying Dr. Pines in a voluntary test subject for his experimentation?”

 

 Not one hand rose. Dipper’s heart sank like a stone. The fury smoldered inside of him still, but he plastered a vacant expression upon his face so as not to give those disagreeing the satisfaction.

 

 “All those not in favor?”

 

 Gideon, Robert, and Pacifica’s hands rose swiftly. All three wore a proud smug look, not bothering to hide their loathing.

 

 " _Nay!_ "

 

 " _Nay!_ "

 

 " _Nay_ _!_ "

 

 Dipper held his breath, looking to his great-uncle. Why had he not voted nay as well?

 

 Pacifica turned to Stan, a frown furrowing on her brow. “What is your vote, sir?”

 

 Dipper’s eyes locked with his relative’s, and he didn’t bother to hide the pleading look he gave the man. Surely he would not go against his own great-nephew. Surely he would not publicly embarrass him in front of the Board.

 

 After a long moment’s pause, Stan said in his gravelly voice, “I abstain from voting on this matter.”

 

 If possible, his heart grew even heavier. Dipper stared at his great-uncle in disbelief as the man turned away, adjourning the meeting. He only paid slight attention to the snickering and chatter of the three Board members as they left the room. He watched as his great-uncle stared back at him, weariness and irritation flashing in his brown eyes. Neither looked away as the door slammed shut behind the three snobby upper-class with great force.

 

 _I really should have expected this. I should have expected nothing less from Stan, especially on the matter of my work._ Dipper fumed internally. _However, the fact that he would reply in such a manner so publicly in front of my colleagues is unspeakable._ Disgraced _in front of my colleagues in_ such _a way!_

 

 It was another second before he processed the result of the entire meeting: he was denied. His request for a test subject, the only thing he had ever asked for from them, had been denied in less than a minute.

 

 What was he going to do now?

 

 “If you are angry, just say so,” Stan said quietly. He did not turn aside, his eyes locked with Dipper’s still.

 

 The doctor found himself trembling with rage and did not bother to hide it for once. “There are no words to describe what I am feeling at the moment.”

 

 Stan raised an eyebrow at this. His expression seemed unreadable.

 

 “Oh?”

 

 That simple word broke through his defenses and Dipper exploded. “ _How could you?!_ I understand if you were to say such a thing in front of Mabel or a friend perhaps; but to publicly shame me in front of the Board of Governors? _That_ is madness and sheer betrayal.”

 

 “You truly expected them to agree to your request?” The disbelief in his tone was blatant.

 

 “Perhaps if I could have persuaded them–”

 

 “You seem to forget that you tried that. _Multiple_ times in the past twenty minutes.”

 

 Dipper moved out from behind the podium, his gaze never leaving his relative’s. “I did not expect it to be easy! I am not a fool!”

 

 “Well, you are acting like one!” Stan was suddenly in front of him, looking down upon Dipper. “The fact that you even bothered to ask such a thing to the _Board_ of all people-!”

 

 “I understand that you have no faith in me or my experiments,” Dipper hissed at him, wishing he were taller now more than ever. “I understand that you will not support me publicly or privately. I truly do. I do not expect you to. However, you openly shamed me and now it shall be the talk of London that we are at odds with one another, and I cannot allow that.”

 

 “We are not ‘at odds’. I do not support this mad obsession of yours, and that is all, Dipper. One day this obsession is going to get you into trouble, and I do not want to be there to see that day.”

 

 Dipper’s face was scarlet with anger now. “I am not obsessed! I know precisely what I am doing and what my goals are. I know that I am right, and if no one in this miserable city will support me, fine by me! I can save many lives with my work and _you_ are all the fools for not seeing so!”

 

 Before Stan could respond, the young doctor grabbed his notes from the podium and stormed out of the room. He did not bother to wait for his great-uncle; he immediately began to head for home, fuming inside as he combed through the memory of the past hour’s catastrophes.

 

_Ignorant fools! They don’t see that I can save them, save us all, from the evil inside! They have not seen the things I have, experienced the same things I have been through._

 

 And on all the unlucky days to happen, it was on his _birthday_!

 

 That thought caused him to stop short, not registering the annoyed grumbles from the others walking around him. _It was the day._

 

 How could he have forgotten?

 

 Gritting his teeth, Dipper turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Of all the days... It had to be _today_.

 

* * *

 

 

  “Welcome back, Dr. Pines!” The jolly voice of Old Sir McGucket had gotten all-too-familiar after all these years, and Dipper did not enjoy conversations with the man. With his long white beard and crooked teeth, the man was not a sight for sore eyes. Especially with where they stood.

 

 “It’s been exactly a year since I’ve seen you here! A bit of an annual thing isn’t it?”

 

 Dipper was also positive that the man was borderline mad, given how quickly his mood swings came and the occasional gibberish that left his mouth.

 

 “Same routine as usual, yes?”

 

 Wordlessly, he nodded and followed the man down the bleak corridor as he drew his coat around his lean frame to block out the chill in the building. He yearned for his sister, who always knew what to say in uncomfortable moments such as this. She would most likely be awaiting him in their destination already, if his hunch was correct.

 

 McGucket continuously attempted to make small talk as he led the way down the corridor, his scratchy voice echoing off of the dark walls like a siren.

 

 “Old Toby’s been quiet since you’ve left. I think he’s just interested in visitors these days, new things.”

 

 “Did you hear about how Ivan attempted an escape nearly three months ago? Such a shame that he didn’t make it. Expected something a bit cleverer than using a spoon to dig a tunnel.”

 

 Dipper ignored the man’s ramblings, his gaze fixing on other confined inhabitants of the asylum. Through the window of one door, he spotted a greasy-haired man banging on the glass ferociously, an animal-like quality to his efforts. Dipper shuddered as a young woman’s screams started ringing in his ears from a cell to his left, reminding him all-too-well of what he was here for.

 

 As always, McGucket ignored the growing cacophony of noise that usually began once the inhabitants saw a visitor and halted in front of a door near the end of the corridor. The wide grin on the old man’s face was not reassuring as Dipper found himself trembling for the second time that day out of fright.

 

 “Here you are! She’s already inside, and they’re going to sleep soon, so you won’t have long.”

 

 Dipper nodded silently again and listened as the man’s footsteps faded away down the corridor. He stared hard at the iron door, almost willing it to stay shut for a few more minutes.

 

_You can do this. Mabel is waiting behind the door for you. If she can do this, so can you._

 

 He shut his eyes tightly, sucking in a shaky breath, and opened the door.

 

 The room was a bleak grey colour with only two twin beds and a small table for furniture. Dipper instantly felt out of place with his blue vest and orange shirt. It was as if all colour had been drained from the room.

 

 His sister was sitting on the bed farthest from the door in a dark purple dress speaking to an older brown-haired man wearing a simple grey shirt and trousers. A woman sat on the floor, fiddling with the seam of her similarly grey dress, not paying any mind to the newest visitor.

 

 Mabel glanced up and a small sad smile formed on her lips as she met his eyes. “You came surprisingly quickly. Is everything alright?”

 

 Dipper shook his head and his sister understood what it meant: _Not good. I will tell you later._ She nodded, sympathy shining in her eyes as she turned back to the man.

 

 “Guess who’s here, Dad? It’s Dipper. He said he would come back, remember? He is getting big, isn’t he?”

 

 Dipper chuckled despite his nervousness, shutting the door behind him softly. “Mabel, I’m twenty-eight years old, not ten.”

 

 She shushed him, flashing her brother a smirk before turning back to their father once more. Dipper moved to the center of the room, where his mother was still paying no attention to the conversation happening. He knelt down beside her, her brown eyes staring unfocused at the dress, and rested a hand on her shoulder (he pretended not to notice the way his mother flinched at his touch).

 

 “Hello, Mum. How have you been?”

 

 As usual, there was no response. He had expected nothing less but that did not mean the dull ache in his heart was lessened by any means. After all, it had been nearly sixteen years since she had been sane. His mother was not going to suddenly, out of the blue, regain her memories.

 

 “I have been working hard on that idea I mentioned last year. I finished a formula that could cure mankind. It will separate the good and evil in us, and it could be the biggest discovery of the century. It has taken me an entire year to research all of the information required and to create the formula itself, and now it is finally done. All I need is a test subject to give the formula to.”

 

 Dipper hesitated, glancing over at his twin, who was watching him not so discreetly out of the corner of her eye. He wondered how his parents would have reacted if they were sane and could hear him. What would they have said if they had been there at the meeting earlier that day? Would they have taken Stan’s side? Would they have supported him?

 

 “Unfortunately, I have been set back. I don’t know what I am going to do, but I will not let this deter me. The formula _will_ work. I know it will. I just... I just need a miracle now, I suppose. They don’t understand that I truly _can_ change the world, Mom. They think I’m mad.”

 

 “They’re wrong, though!” Mabel piped up, startling the young doctor. “Dipper may be a little strange sometimes and forget to bathe–”

 

 “I do not!”

 

 “– but he is certainly not mad! Uh, no offense...”

 

 Dipper found a smile creeping onto his face at his sister’s support. How could Stan say that she didn’t approve of his line of work? Mabel seemed to be the _only_ one there for him as of late.

 

 His mother looked up unexpectedly and met his gaze, her eyes glazed. She raised her hand up to his cheek, a frown slowly appearing on her face.

 

 Dipper couldn’t help but watch her expression carefully. He had long since given up hope for saving his parents’ sanity. However it didn’t hurt to see how she reacted, right?

 

 A small gurgled sound came from across the room, drawing Dipper’s eyes to his father instead. Mabel was holding his hands in her own, nodding in encouragement as their father continued to make unintelligible sounds from the depths of his throat. He smiled at her wide hopeful eyes but the ache in his heart reminded him that nothing was going to occur. Nothing had changed in sixteen years; why would they change now?

 

 Dipper turned back to his mother, who had her hand on his cheek still and appeared to be confused. She was the less vocal of the two, preferring to keep to herself and get lost in her own little world. The twins had only heard her speak (or attempt to make some sort of noise) once when they were eighteen and she got angry because Mabel had mentioned leaving early that day. Dipper stared at her now and recalled how beautiful their mother had once been: her brown hair all pinned up, eyes aglow and cheeks rosy like Mabel’s. She had once been so happy; both her and their father had been.

 

 Yet somehow, they both had become lost to madness that took hold one day when they were twelve. From then on they had been placed under the care of their great-uncle and chose to continue visiting their parents at least once every year (always on their birthday, too).

 

 With the accusations spat at him today in the meeting, Dipper wondered if madness ran in the family. He knew that he himself wasn’t mad, but if he could uncover why they had lost their minds in the first place...

 

 No. He had been down this road before far too many times. Trying to save his parents never ended well and it was a task he had given up on long ago.

 

 Without warning, the door to the room burst open and his mother shrunk back in fright, curling in on herself as her husband groaned and inched backwards. Dipper turned, ready to yell at the intruder, but softened when he saw Soos standing there, a sad smile reflecting in both his expression and his eyes. It wasn’t often that Soos came himself to bring them home, especially not today of all days.

 

 “They’d better be getting to bed about now,” Old Sir McGucket was saying with the same eager grin on his face that he had worn all might. “It’s nap time.”

 

 Dipper and Mabel met each other’s gaze, a silent understanding linking their actions as they stood. They moved to the door as McGucket went to help their parents into bed, and Dipper watched them for a moment as Mabel walked away. They looked so vulnerable and helpless. Just as he was helpless to do anything for them.

 

 “I’m sorry.” His whisper was soft as he shut the door, not noticing that his hands were trembling until he glanced down.

 

 He headed down the corridor after his sister, linking her arm with his as the noise level increased once more from the other inhabitants of the asylum. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze, not needing to hear him speak to understand how he felt, just as he felt with her.

 

 It simply was not fair or just. It was the very reason why he had begun experimenting upon this new theory in the first place. The evil in mankind corrupted their souls, bringing out the terrors that drove man mad, and torturing his good parents. It happened with everyone in this damn hellhole, he was certain of it. The evidence in his research showed both aspects quite clearly. That was why he had to stop this evil, to rid mankind of it. Perhaps he could even save the members of the asylum if he experimented further, figure out a way to recover their sanity. There _had_ to be a way!

 

 Unfortunately thanks to his inconsiderate colleagues - and his great-uncle - no one would ever understand this. No one would ever know.


	3. Bring on the Men

 He absolutely refused to go to the birthday party. No matter how many times Mabel begged him, he was not going to give in. How could he face the guests knowing that a year’s work was for nothing?

 

 Stan was angry but did not confront Dipper about this face-to-face. Instead, he sent Soos to tell his great-nephew that he did not appreciate how he was treating this celebration just for him and his twin. The butler gave him an apologetic look afterwards in an effort to try and stop the scowl forming on the doctor’s face (it did not work at all).

 

 The only place he could find peace was down in the lab with his equipment and journal and formula. He sat stiffly on a chair by his lab coat, paging through the journal with melancholy glinting in his eyes.

 

 He wasn’t hiding. He really wasn’t. A man just required his space sometimes for personal reasons.

 

 Mabel had been saddened and annoyed to hear of what had happened that day with the Board of Governors, crying out like she was preparing for war and reassuring him that _she_ thought his intentions were noble. Dipper couldn’t help but wonder why his sister was so drastically different from him: confident, optimistic, friendly, loveable. No wonder men wished to marry her.

 

 Dipper’s heart ached at the thought of his sister, the sad pout forming in his head for the fourth time that night. He wished he didn’t have to hide the nature of his work from her. She would have understood why he needed to use another test subject, would have understood why he was so angry about Stan not comprehending this “madness”.

 

 With a groan of frustration, Dipper shut the journal and flung it across the lab, watching it hit the wall. What was he supposed to do about all of this? This whole thing was one big mess.

 

 He could vaguely hear laughter drifting through the cracks in the door coming from the ballroom, music faintly playing in the background. He listened intently for another moment or two before burying his face in his hands, struggling not to think of Mabel or Stan or the damn Board of Governors. It was wrong to be cooped up inside his lab all night – Dipper knew that, he honestly did – but it would be so hard to keep up his straight face out there, even with his sister there to help. He felt like a failure, a disgrace to science and the world.

 

 _I will make it up to her later,_ Dipper promised himself. _I will make it up to her and to Stan._

 

 As if on cue, there was a dull knock on the lab door. The young man straightened in his chair, hesitating to respond. He recognized the knocking as Soos, who never wanted to disturb him and always knocked once softly, but he did not wish to see the butler at the moment.

 

 If he did not reply, though, perhaps Soos would get Stan.

 

 “Yes?”

 

 There was a slight pause from the butler on the other side of the door. “Your sister wishes to see you. She says she needs to speak with you. I don’t know what about but it sounded important.”

 

 Dipper couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease at Soos’ obvious nervousness. “Yes, well, I suppose I will be right out. Thank you, Soos.”

 

 There was an incoherent mumble on the opposite side before footsteps were heard walking away. He waited until they had faded completely before standing and straightening out his vest. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror on the wall, Dipper ran a hand through his thick hair and promptly gave up when he had no results.

 

 Did Mabel want to talk about his meeting with the Board? A flutter of anxiety hit his heart at the very thought. He wasn’t sure what else she could possibly wish to know about the discussion.

 

 Dipper hurried to the door and shut it quietly behind him as he made his way down the corridor. Soos had not given him any directions as to where his twin was, which was a little irritating due to the fact that he might have to brave the celebration and search for her through the crowds. _Please do not be far, Mabel._

 

 “Oh, so you _do_ come out every once in a while?”

 

_Speak of the devil..._

 

 Dipper slowly turned, swallowing hard at the sight of his older sister leaning against the door to his lab, preventing any means of escape to his safe haven. With her dark blue gown and hair pinned in place, she seemed much older and intimidating. Her arms were folded in an unladylike manner across her chest, yet another sign of the stormy mood she was in.

 

 “I heard... Soos said that you wanted to speak with me.” Dammit, why was he stuttering? He wasn’t nervous. He was definitely not nervous.

 

 Mabel raised an eyebrow. She appeared surprisingly calm, which her brother knew was a bad sign: this meant she was hiding her anger from him like a firecracker ready to explode.

 

 “Yes. I think it’s about time we talked about it too.” At the sight of his confused frown she rolled her eyes. “Your absences, Dipper. You don’t come to parties anymore with us or _do anything_ other than work! You know how long I spent planning tonight, how many times I told you how happy I was to have this party. And what did you do? You blew me off! Dipper, it’s our birthday! Does that mean nothing to you anymore?”

 

 “Mabel, it means a great deal to me.” Dipper tried to explain. “I know I’ve been forgetful and have been spending less time with you, but I promise that I will make it up to you.”

 

 His sister snorted, looking away to glare at the painting on the wall adjacent to them. “When? Next year? After you finish solving world hunger?”

 

 “Mabel–”

 

 “I have not brought this up before because I know you are working hard and I believe in you. I love you and I know you are doing good work, Dipper. But you didn’t _truly_ believe that I was just going to allow you to continue getting away with this, did you? Grunkle Stan can only lecture you so many times before you begin to tune him out.”

 

 “I do not tune him out–!”

 

 Mabel shushed him loudly. Her brown eyes were narrowed, framed by thick lashes, and Dipper found that he did not like the look in them.

 

 “Please do not try to make excuses, Dipper. I know you, you’re my brother. We are twins.”

 

 Dipper tried once more, “I just did not feel like participating tonight, Mabel. I know how important tonight was, I was looking forward to spending time with you, but after this morning... I can’t help but feel like a failure! I can’t face the guests or Stan or _you_ like this!”

 

 “Dipper, I know that–”

 

 “Mabel, my dear, is everything alright out here? I heard bickering from the ballroom.” At that moment, Dipper found himself staring right into the beady eyes of none other than Lord Gideon himself. The man smirked at him before taking his sister’s hand. To his astonishment, Mabel did not budge or react at all.

 

 She stared at him instead, a cold expression making its way onto her face. “I am fine. My brother and I were just talking.”

 

 Gideon glanced at Dipper, hiding his contempt behind a weak mask of cheerfulness. “I see! Shall we head back to the party?”

 

 Dipper met Mabel’s eyes again, struggling to convey all of his conflicted emotions into his expression, to make her see that he was sorry. The only reply he received was a back turned to him as she walked away with Gideon upon her arm. His heart felt close to shattering when he heard the bastard say not very subtly, “Oh, and I almost forgot! Happy birthday, Mabel darling.”

 

 _I am an ignorant fool._ Dipper thought to himself miserably. What else could possibly go wrong tonight?

 

 He needed to get away from this party.

 

* * *

 

 

 How the hell he found himself inside _Greasy’s_ , a pub where only the lower-class ventured in their somber hours, Dipper would never truly know. One minute he was hurrying from the estate with his coat in hand, the next he was sitting at a table with a drink between his fingers.

 

 There were two things off about the situation:

 

  1. Dipper Pines never drank. He disliked alcohol.

  2. No one was paying him a second glance, despite his blatantly elegant vest and coat.



 

 Dipper should have been more alarmed by the latter, but due to the fact that he was already downing the alcohol, he couldn’t care less. There was something about the burning sensation of the liquid going down his throat that was oddly soothing. It seemed to help with forgetting his current issues.

 

 As he got near to finishing the first glass, he glanced to his left and noted Lord Robert at one of the tables, sitting with a busty brunette with large doe eyes on his lap. Disgusted, he turned aside, hoping the drink would erase that as well.

 

 Some birthday he was having.

 

 Dipper chuckled darkly to himself. Just his luck. Of course, on the day when he should have been happiest, everything had gone spiraling downhill for the young doctor. That dreadful meeting had begun the chain of events ruining the day (and quite possibly his work and relationship with his sister).

 

 Stan would murder him if he found out where his great-nephew was. Mabel would be appalled and argue with him about why pubs were not good influences, possibly even asking him to tell her what he had been drinking that night. Soos, the only person seemingly sympathetic to him as of right now, would possibly be worried and ramble on about how his cousin had once gotten so drunk that he had thought he was the King of England for the six hours he was inebriated.

 

 But they _did not know._ No one knew where he was.

 

 A tingle spread through his veins, a gleeful sensation of bliss. He could be alone for the rest of the night and drown his sorrows and regrets in this fine whiskey.

 

 Something nagged at the back of his mind, the big part of him that was still sober (he had only had one drink so far, after all) that scolded him and warned Dipper that this was an awful plan. After being shouted at, ignored, and scolded all day though, he honestly did not give a shit about other people at this very second. Dipper felt that he _needed_ this, needed to be drunk and forget everything for just a few hours.

 

 He called over a tall blonde and asked her politely (or as politely as he could with his thoughts growing cloudy) for another drink. As she left, Dipper noted that some men were watching her go with ugly expressions. _Some people are mostly evil instead of good_ , he thought to himself with a scowl.

 

 There was a sharp cry from the table where Lord Robert was sitting at the moment with quiet laughter ringing out in mere moments. Dipper’s bloodshot eyes fixed on the center of attention, which happened to be a towering redhead with a green, rather skimpy, dress. A small frown crept onto his face and it grew larger as he noted Robert’s wide grin. The way that he was staring at her made the doctor feel uncomfortable.

 

 The redhead pulled away from the man’s hand gripping her arm, a sneer painting her face as she hurried out of the pub. Dipper glanced down at his drink for a second, pondering what to do, and walked out after her.

 

 It really wasn’t his business. It really wasn’t.

 

 And yet Dipper found himself watching the woman walk off, heading for a building on the opposite side of the London street.

 

 Should he speak with her? Attempt to help her get home? He was not good with talking about these sorts of things, especially with women (the only exception being his sister).

 

 He winced at the memory of his sister. Damn, he wished he was drunk so that he could not recall her cold expression.

 

 This seemed to decide his destination for him. Dipper hurried after the red-haired female, trying not to appear so publicly appalled by the sight of the sign hanging over the run-down building: _The Red Rat_. He had heard of this place: it was a popular brothel where a great many of his colleagues went (not just including people on the Board of Directors). Why on earth was she coming _here_?

 

 He remembered her tight dress and felt something lodge in his already dry throat. Oh. _Oh._

 

 _Of course_ she worked here. But if she did, why was she so offended by a man trying to grab her attention? Wasn’t that her profession?

 

 Against his better judgment, Dipper headed inside, gagging for a moment at the awful stench. If possible, the brothel was even more run-down than its exterior appearance. About twenty or so wooden tables lined the inside, a good amount of men already sitting down expectantly. A sewage pipe ran directly over the doctor’s head, dripping ever few seconds and covered in a nasty shade of green mold. There was a few doors near the back, and Dipper definitely did _not_ wish to think of what went on behind them.

 

 There was no sign of the ginger who had caught his eye. Moving in to one of the tables, he tried to spy her amongst the men already here to no avail. Had she gone to get ready for tonight?

 

 There was a sudden loud hum of music and Dipper hurriedly sat, praying to God that no one from work would recognize him here. The absolute last thing that he needed tonight was more gossip about his experiments and his intentions for the world.

 

 Unfortunately, that meant that he would have to sit through this performance. And that was something he certainly did _not_ want, especially since he was not that sort of man.

 

 To his immense surprise, it was the red-haired woman who stepped out into view first before being followed by half a dozen other girls in similar revealing dresses. Dipper found himself watching only the ginger, however, and as the song started up, something akin to a bush flared up on his cheeks.

 

_There was a time_   
_I don't know when_   
_I didn't have much time for men_   
_But this is now and that was then, I'm learning_   
  
_A girl alone, all on her own_   
_Must try to have a heart of stone_   
_So I try not to make it known my yearning_   
_I try to show I have no need_   
_I really do, I don't succeed_

 

 She had a clear singing voice, not the best, but something compelling laced within her words drew him in (Not that he was interested in the context of the song lyrics, of course). As she sang, she always smiled wide with white pearly teeth and her pale skin seemed to stand out starkly when near the other much tanner ladies. They danced around her, occasionally going over to one of the men to do something suggestive, teasing them before heading back to their places.

 

_We say bring on the men_   
_And let the fun begin_   
_A little touch of sin_   
_Why wait another minute_   
  
_Step this way it's time for us to play_   
_They say we may not pass this way again_   
_So let's waste no more time_   
_Bring on the men_

 

 As he watched, Dipper found himself admiring how the women could put themselves out there so easily, even if it was for money. He had tried to appear that confident that mere morning, and where had _that_ gotten him? All he had wanted was a test subject and his own colleagues had turned him down.

 

_They break your heart_   
_They steal your soul_   
_Take you apart_   
_And yet they somehow make you whole_

_So what's their game?_  
 _I_ _suppose a rose by any other name_  
 _The perfume and the pricks the same_

 

 Perhaps it was his slightly clouded mind that suggested the thought or the fact that nothing had gone right on his birthday of all days that Dipper thought to himself next, _I should have just done the test upon myself to save myself the trouble and time._

 

_So let's bring on the men_   
_And let the fun begin_   
_A little touch of sin_   
_Why wait another minute_   
  
_Step this way it's time for us to play_   
_They say we may not pass this way again_   
_So let's waste no more time_   
_Bring on the men_

 

 He froze, tuning out his surroundings as the performance continued. What if he did just that? He knew how to apply the formula, after all, and it would not take long to write down his results once it was administered. Besides, this way no one got hurt if his formula was incorrect. And if it was...then only he would be affected.

 

 Dipper was brought out of his thoughts by a loud cheering and applause ringing in his ears. Looking up from the table, he saw that the performance has ended and now some women were leading a few men away to have conversations (very intimate ones by the look of it). He stood hesitantly and glanced quickly around the brothel, grateful that no one had noticed his presence.

 

 His eyes locked on the ginger prostitute and was flustered to find that her green eyes found his in seconds. He glanced away, praying that he did not look embarrassed, even though he knew that he probably did. Why was he so embarrassed anyway? It was just a show. She was not _that_ fascinating.

 

 “See something you like?”

 

 Dipper almost yelped in shock as he looked up (wow, she was a good three inches taller than him) to meet the eyes of the red-haired woman again. She laughed at his scarlet face but it was not unkind – it was almost endearing.

 

 “Sorry, did I startle you?” Dipper nodded, his voice not working at the moment. What was wrong with him?

 

 “I-I...” He cleared his throat awkwardly before trying once more. “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable or gave you the wrong idea. I was not staring because...erm, well...”

 

 The woman laughed again and Dipper felt a fluttering in his chest at the sound. “That’s alright. I didn’t come over here because I thought you wanted to make a move.”

 

 “You d-didn’t?” Why else would she come to him? He wasn’t very attractive in appearance and he was not the most intriguing person to speak with. There was nothing truly special about him.

 

 “No, of course not.” She smiled that pearly white smile at him, which he thought looked much nicer up close. “I noticed you were new and you didn’t seem too interested in the, ah, _entertainment_.”

 

 He hadn’t thought it possible for his face to become redder, but somehow his cheeks burned brighter. “Yes, well, I... I don’t come here, no, but I was in _Greasy’s_ and I noticed that you were accosted by a man and–”

 

 “Oh, _that_.” Her smile changed to a scowl. Dipper wished that he hadn’t said anything; he missed her warm smile already. “Thank you for your concern, but he and I know one another and... He is sort of possessive over me, between you and me. It’s rather irritating and he was making me late for work and...” She shut her eyes and shook her head, sighing in frustration.

 

 Dipper felt a little ashamed of his protective behavior. Why had he made such a big deal out of a stranger being harassed by one of his colleagues in the first place?

 

 “I am very sorry. I, um, did not know and since I do know him too, I thought perhaps something had happened, I suppose, and–”

 

 She placed a finger to his lips, pausing him in his nervous babbling. The smile crept at her lips as she said teasingly, “You ramble a lot, you know.”

 

 “Y-Yes, sorry,” he stammered as she moved the finger away.

 

 “And you apologize for things that are not your fault.” The ginger tilted her head at him. “You’re not like other men I’ve known. What’s your name?”

 

 Dipper stuck out his hand to her out of habit, trying to wish away the blush spreading down to his neck and ears. “Dr. Dipper Pines, ma’am. And you are?”

 

 “Gwendolyn Corduroy,” she said, taking his hand. Her fingers were warm against his and he felt a twinge of unhappiness when she pulled away. “Everyone calls me Wendy, however.”

 

 “It is my pleasure to meet you, Wendy,” he said sincerely with a small shy smile.

 

 Wendy smiled in return at his words. “Mine as well, _Doctor_. What exactly is your line of work?”

 

 He glanced down in embarrassment. “I, well, I am working on an experiment for something less medical and more...psychological, I guess you could say. I don’t like to speak of it publicly, sorry.”

 

 To his surprise, she merely waved it away. “I understand completely. I am not pressuring you at all. It sounds intriguing, though.”

 

 “It is,” Dipper said before flushing a darker shade of red in embarrassment again. “Well, I mean... Your, um, _performance_ helped me solve a problem involving my work, actually.” Why had he said that? _Why_ had he said that?

 

 “Really?” This was the first time she seemed surprised by something he had said.

 

 “Um, yes...”

 

 Wendy smiled wider down at him. “Well, I am glad that I could be of some help to your work, Doctor.”

 

 It was Dipper’s turn to smile now. “You can call me Dipper. No one calls me by my title.”

 

 “If you wish it,” she teased. “Is that just a nickname or is that truly your real name?”

 

 Dipper rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, noticing that a couple men were glaring openly at him for wasting their time with one of the prostitutes. “It is just a nickname that’s sort of stuck ever since I was little.”

 

 “Oh, that makes more sense. I was wondering why your parents would name you after a constellation.”

 

 A pang in his heart reminded him of his visit to the asylum earlier that day and he struggled not to appear pained by her harmless comment, chuckling good-naturedly. “Yes, that would be rather odd, wouldn’t it?”

 

 “Wendy!” The two turned to see an older woman with a lazy eye standing by them with her arms crossed over her chest. Although she was smiling politely, it was not difficult to spot the stern look in her good eye. “May I speak with you, please?”

 

 The ginger shrugged nonchalantly and smiled warmly back at Dipper. A sudden urge came over the young man, and he withdrew one of his visiting cards from inside his vest before quickly pressing it into her palm. When Wendy gave him a confused look, he mouthed, _In case you need me._

 

 She smiled wider and nodded, turning away the next moment and walking off with the woman, who sent him a glare. Despite the latter’s reaction, Dipper couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the small accomplishment...and what he knew he had to do tonight before he lost his nerve. _ _  
__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case, you didn't notice, all chapter titles are songs from Jekyll & Hyde (although I prefer the original concept soundtrack so if you see a song you do not recognize, it is most likely from there).


	4. First Transformation

 Dipper sucked in a shaky breath as he finished writing a brand new entry in the journal. He had shed his light coat for his lab coat and now that he had arrived home, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about what he was about to do. He knew this was the right thing, since the Board of Governors had not helped him as he had hoped and there was no way he could ask such a thing from his own family. The doctor himself was the only one left to test out the formula.

 

 As if this would help steel his nerves, Dipper reread his writing with a heavy heart.

 

_June 18, 1884_

 

_My colleagues have failed to provide me with a test subject for my experimentation with the new formula. This failure is a heavy blow to my pride and heart, but it is merely a minor setback. Given no other alternative, I am forced to think of other ways to test my formula. I have decided to test my formula, for the good of mankind, upon myself._

 

_I pray that this works, for I would love to prove the Board of Governors wrong after all this time and if this worked, it could mean so much for the world. Good could reign over the vanquished evil and all problems would be solved._

 

_I must proceed to test the formula now, but I shall record my findings once the results are complete._

_Until my next entry,_

 

_Dr. Dipper Pines_

 

 The young man sighed, not feeling any better about going behind his sister and great-uncle’s backs to do this. _If only they understood._

 

 Gritting his teeth and closing his journal, he forced himself to shove aside any and all doubts or regrets. This was the moment, the first (and possibly final, if this formula happened to be fatal) test. He couldn’t feel sorry for himself. He had to set aside his demons and do this. Hadn’t he always dreamed of doing this since he had gotten the idea last year? Wasn’t this what he wanted?

 

 There was no going back now.

 

 Dipper blew out a deep breath and removed the cork from the test tube holding the mixture. The pigment was an odd shade of yellow, admittedly repulsive to look at.

 

 _This is for the world_ , he reminded himself. _This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Damn all the odds! This day or never, I’ll sit forever with the gods. I will always recall this moment for moment, that this was the moment, so I need to stop thinking and just DO IT!_

 

 Setting his jaw in determination, the doctor lifted the formula to his lips and drank a little of the liquid (but not too much in case he needed some for future usage).

 

_This is the moment._

 

  And as the liquid burned his throat, Dipper quickly put the cork back into the formula, setting it back down onto its rightful stand. A sudden pounding headache reached his temples and he rubbed it vigorously as the formula continued to sear his throat. Why was it so painful? Was it supposed to feel like his lungs were on fire?

 

 Without warning, the pain worsened and his vision blurred as he felt his head screaming for mercy. What the hell? What was wrong with him? Was it the formula’s side effects? Other than the pain, nothing appeared to be occurring. _Should_ he have felt some sort of change as the evil inside left his body?

 

 Dipper gripped his head tightly as the endless hammering deep inside grew louder and stronger. He cried out, falling to his knees, head between his hands, praying to God that this agony would end. _The formula was wrong, I should have waited, they were right, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!_

 

 The man tried taking deeper breaths, but his throat seemed to be closing up. His entire body was in searing pain, fire racing through his veins as he fully collapsed on the lab floor. For once, he was grateful Mabel didn't pay him a visit because then she would have seen him writhing on the floor and panicked. _Am I dying? Is this what a painful death feels like? Please, God, help me! Just stop this agony!_

 

 His thoughts running a mile a minute, Dipper chose to shut his eyes and attempt to ride out the worst of the agony. It would end soon, it had to. He had no idea how long he'd been crying out in pain, perhaps only mere minutes, perhaps an hour.

 

 As the agony grew, the doctor's head felt heavier, his thoughts clouded and murky. It was as if a fog was sweeping over his brain, concealing the mind. His eyes grew heavier, even when shut tightly as they were, and he could feel something akin to sleep calling his name as the agony lessened. Something nagged at him in the back of his mind, screaming his name, shouting at him to get up and run.

 

 However, as darkness filled his vision, Dipper realized he didn't care. _If this is death, I welcome it peacefully..._

* * *

 

 His head felt heavy as he struggled to open his eyes. It was as if an anvil had been resting on his skull for the past hour and was just now being removed.

 

 His eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying face down on the cold floor. The pain in his head was subsiding, but he found that he actually... _enjoyed_ the sensation. It made him feel so... _alive!_

 

 Standing, the man fingered his messy brown hair with a smirk. So unkempt and disheveled... That would not do at all.

 

 He swept his bangs out of his eyes and noticed the test tube in its stand on the counter, ready for further experimentation. Oh, that wouldn’t do either.

 

 With a sharp movement, he knocked the formula off of the counter, smiling wide in satisfaction as it shattered upon impact on the floor at his feet. Now _that_ was more like it. After all, he couldn’t have Dipper Pines ruining his fun, could he? He hadn’t ever truly been alive like this before, and it was an exhilarating feeling to finally be in control, even if it wouldn’t last forever.

 

 He definitely need a new name if he was going to be able to identify himself from the doctor. An evil smile stretched across his face as he thought hard, unbuttoning the blue vest and tossing it aside so that he only wore the orange shirt. This colour did not suit him; he would need to change into another shirt when he went out.

 

 A dark chuckle escaped his throat as he eyed the shards of glass littering the floor. Poor doctor was going to having a fit when he came to, wasn’t he? What a mess he had made...

 

 “But I won’t have to clean it up,” he said aloud, delighted to hear the sound of his own voice. _His_ voice, not Pine Tree’s (Pines, Pine Tree. _He_ thought the pun was funny). “Because I’m not Dipper Pines, am I? No...”

 

 He laughed again, louder this time as a thrill ran through his veins. “No, because I’m Bill Cipher. And he’ll have to clean that up all on his own! Take that, Pine Tree!”

 

 Cipher’s laughter echoed in the lab as he stumbled towards the door (legs were very burdensome things apparently). He had places to explore, after all... And he needed to change out of this outrageous shirt into something more his style.

 

 It took the man a good fifteen minutes to find his bedroom in the dead of the night. The birthday party had ended hours ago and everyone was asleep, which worked to his advantage. He crept to his door and opened it slowly, flinching at the sharp sound that it made. He made his way to the wardrobe and smiled deviously at the selection presented. Cipher chose a white shirt and practically ripped the orange one off his body.

 

 Noticing a top hat on the floor under Pine Tree’s bed, he smiled wider and placed it on his unruly brown hair. Glancing in the mirror, he felt much better, more like himself. And yet, something was still missing. He felt incomplete.

 

 Cipher shrugged and looked back into the wardrobe, studying the array of vests and shirts once more. Something dark stuck out from the back that caught his eye, a thick piece of fabric stowed away by the looks of it.

 

 Cocking his head, he pulled on it until it tumbled into his arms. He lifted it up by what he assumed was the top and a smile stretched wide across his ace once more.

 

 It was a cloak, with two folds that hung off of the shoulders and tied together with a string. Swinging it around his shoulders and tying it together, Cipher felt another rush of excitement fly through his body. Now _this_ would work.

 

 He gave another low chuckle before exiting the bedroom and hurrying down the corridor to leave the estate. As much as he enjoyed spending time admiring his new ( _alive!_ ) body in the mirror, Cipher had work to do.

 

 After all, who wouldn’t want to explore London in the dead of twilight?

 

 He’d be back by the time Pine Tree would take over, of course. Maybe he’d lie down in the shattered glass and give the doctor a heart attack when he did so.

 

 Cipher couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea. Pain was _hilarious_.

 

 Especially when you got to experience it for yourself... because Bill Cipher was _alive_ now, and he wouldn't be going away _anytime_ soon.

* * *

 

 A soft groan escaped his lips as his head throbbed. God, what had happened last night? Had he gotten so drunk that he had passed out?

 

 His eyes fluttered open hesitantly and the young man frowned at the sight of shards of glass littered about the floor on which he was lying on. “What the hell...?”

 

 Dipper sat up with another groan, rubbing his temples and studying the lab for any more unusual things lying about. The only things he saw were the glass, however, which he had an uneasy feeling about.

 

 Wait... Was that blood on some of the shards? And what was that yellow liquid dried up on the floor...?

 

 Without warning, his memories (or rather, _Cipher’s_ memories) returned and Dipper cried out in shock, staring down at his bleeding hands, where shards of the test tube were impaled.

 

 The formula. Exploring London. Deliberately hurting himself with the shards because _pain was hilarious_ – and Dipper found himself whimpering uncharacteristically, trembling in horror. He remembered it all and _god, what had he done?_

 

 He had succeeded in separating the good and evil in man. Unfortunately, he had created an alternate personality instead: Mr. Cipher.

 

 Dipper felt ill. What was he going to do? How would he explain this to his family? Or, God help him, what would they do if Cipher took over again? They wouldn’t know the difference and Dipper didn’t know what the evil man would do to Stan or Mabel if Cipher was in control.

 

 Could he try and control this mad man? Maybe he could reverse the process and destroy Cipher entirely.

 

 How, though?                                            

 

 A sudden knock on his door caused the doctor to cry out before blushing in shame. “Erm, yes?”

 

 “Breakfast is ready. Did… Did you sleep there all night, sir?”

 

 Damn, it was Soos. Dipper forced himself to take deep breaths and calm down before he replied. “I did, sorry. I was working late last night. Would you… Would you mind bringing the food to me here, Soos? I will probably be here for most of the day. Working, I mean.”

 

 There was a brief pause, as if Soos was not sure what to do or how to respond. “I, um, yes! Yes, I will go get it now. Are you alright, sir?”

 

 “Y-Yes, I am fine. And, please, call me Dipper.”

 

 The last sentence leapt out of his mouth before he could stop it, but once he said it (and proceeded to blush a darker shade of pink in embarrassment) he found that he did not regret it. Soos was probably one of his only friends, despite being the butler. It seemed wrong for him to call Dipper “sir”.

 

 The silence lasted longer this time, and Dipper worried that his outburst was inappropriate. Before he could try and take it back, Soos said, surprisingly enthusiastic, “Definitely. I’ll be right back...Dipper.”

 

 As the portly man’s footsteps faded away, the young doctor smiled to himself warmly. He could always trust Soos to bring some light to his dark days.

 

 Unfortunately, if Cipher was in control, who knew what he would do to the butler? His memories, while returned, were still a little fuzzy from the night before. He felt as if something had happened, something significant, but for the life of him, Dipper could not recall what.

 

 What if he had hurt someone? Or...heaven forbid, _killed_ someone?

 

 No, he couldn’t think such dark thoughts. Surely Cipher was not _that_ cruel. He had not done anything terrible last night when he had had free reign, so perhaps this meant he would keep a low profile and not do anything risky or dangerous.

 

 The smile faded entirely as Dipper remembered his family, though. God, what would Cipher do or say to them when he was in control? Would he hurt Mabel? Would he get him into altercations with Stan?

 

 Perhaps it was best to stay in his lab until he found the cure for this terrible formula. Perhaps it would be better for _all_ of London, not just his twin and great-uncle...

 

 Remembering the cold anger in Mabel’s eyes, Dipper flinched and began pulling the glass shards from the palms of his hands. She would murder him for deliberately avoiding her after a fight.

 

 _I’m sorry, Mabel. I’m doing this for your own good, please understand._ He prayed that she somehow understood his good intentions and waited for Soos to return with his breakfast. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill finally makes an appearance! You'll be seeing a lot more of him, probably in nearly every chapter.


	5. Alive

 Mabel knew something was wrong about three days after their birthday.

 

 On the first day, she told herself he was avoiding her and she fumed for the rest of the day. She ignored Grunkle Stan and Soos after the latter told her Dipper was not coming out of his lab.

 

 On the second day, she grew angrier and guessed that he was just being a coward now or engrossed in his work _again_. Both thoughts made her furious either way and she was tempted to storm into her brother’s lab to tell him to quit acting childish. She didn’t, though, because Soos seemed worried about Dipper and Stan told her that he was probably just blowing off steam himself. So she waited.

 

 As the third day passed however, Mabel realized that Dipper had never been hidden away in his lab for so long before. He wasn’t angry with her when they had argued – _she_ had been the one reprimanding him. It made no sense for him to hide and stay holed up there. Did he even go to his bed to sleep or did he simply sleep on the floor?

 

 She found herself growing more concerned every minute, despite her earlier anger. Something was wrong, she just knew it. Dipper hadn’t left the house or the lab, had not spoken to anyone other Soos through the door of the lab, and this was highly unlike him.

 

 Had they done something wrong? Was she to blame? Had she truly upset him this time? Or was he trying to mock her by not leaving the lab until she apologized?

 

 The latter seemed least likely but Mabel couldn’t help but wonder why he would be so secretive all of a sudden.

 

 On the dawn of the twenty-second of June, Mabel crept down from her bedroom in her sleepwear still and her way cautiously to the door of her younger brother’s lab. The corridors were eerily quiet for once, and she found herself reminiscing on the days of childhood when she and Dipper had run down these very corridors, chasing each other with giant smiles adorning their faces. She smiled softly as she remembered tackling her twin when she finally caught him, sitting on his back and laughing as he tried to get up. Dipper would eventually stop trying to free himself and join in her laughter as well, the child-like spirit contagious between the two.

 

 As the memory faded, the young woman sighed to herself. When had those days changed? Why couldn’t the two of them still make such good memories now?

 

 _It was that horrible project of his_ , Mabel thought to herself bitterly. _He began paying more attention to_ that _and spending more time shut away in his lab. He stopped having fun and became so focused that he lost track of what he was doing and where he was supposed to be._

 

 And now Dipper was doing it all over again, shutting himself away from the outside world and his own family in order to work on his experiments.

 

 She normally supported her brother in most everything he did, and she had indeed supported Dipper in the beginning when he had begun his experiments and research. She liked his idea of separating evil from humankind and thought that if anyone could do it, her brother certainly could. He set out to accomplish anything he put his mind too, something the two had in common.

 

 It was only after about five months that Mabel realized he was growing obsessed with his work. She wanted to talk to him about it, but it was hard to bring his project up in a negative light in front of him due to how enthusiastic he had become about it. Every time she saw her twin smile broadly and go on babbling about how he was _so_ _close_ and he just _knew_ that he was on the right track to saving man from the evil inside of them... Well, how could she break his heart by discouraging him from working when he come so far?

 

 But now, after he had missed out on their favorite day, the _most_ _important_ day, Mabel knew she should have taken the chance while she had had it and stopped Dipper from growing so dependent on his project. Maybe they would not have had that fight if she had just asked him to spend more time with her and Stan a long time ago.

 

 It was far too late to change that, though. What was said and done had occurred, and now it was up to her to fix what she had done. Not that it wasn’t her twin’s fault either; she was still expecting an apology from him as well.

 

 Mabel sucked in a deep breath as she faced the door to Dipper’s lab. She could hear someone inside already, muttering something to themselves, something bubbling in the background. So he was already up like she had guessed.

 

 It was now or never.

 

 Mabel hesitantly knocked on the door and frowned when she heard a small yelp, something rustling in the back of the lab.

 

 Her brother’s voice called out, a twinge of nervousness written in his voice. “Erm, yes? I’m rather busy, Soos.”

 

 Her irritation built up all over again but she forced the feeling back. She had to convince him to come out, not scare him off.

 

 “It’s me, Dipper.”

 

 There was a long pause, one she couldn’t decipher, and it made her wonder if he was going to give her the silent treatment now that he knew who was there. Soon enough however, she heard a quiet, “Oh. Um, is it breakfast already?”

 

 “No, it’s not.” Wow, he had really lost all track of time, hadn’t he? “It is almost four in the morning. Have you slept at all?”

 

 Another pause, but this one was much shorter. “N – Well, yes I have! Heh, yes, I just... Early bird gets the worm, right?”

 

 He was lying. Mabel could tell without even seeing Dipper that he was trying cover up his weariness. Why would he go and do that?

 

 This had to stop. She could not allow him to go on with this charade.

 

 “Dipper, please don’t lie to me. You’ve been up all night, have you not?” She tried to sound gentle and calm, but her worry was blatantly heard in her tone.

 

 “I am alright,” he said, not answering her question. “I got up to finish something, that’s all.”

 

 She sighed deeply, leaning her forehead against the cold door. “Dipper, you _need_ to sleep. This is not healthy. You’ve been avoiding everyone since the party, and we’re...we’re worried.”

 

 Dipper paused again before he responded. “Mabel, I promise that nothing is wrong. I am just trying to work, I am sorry if I caused you to feel any concern for my wellbeing. I will be out soon.”

 

 “How soon?”

 

 Mabel knew the brief silence after her demand was not a good sign.

 

 “Soon. I cannot give you an exact measurement of time.”

 

 “Dipper - !”

 

 He cut her off quickly by saying, “I’m sorry, but I promise once I get out I will spend time with you, Mabel. I mean it.”

 

 She knew from the quiet tone that he was being sincere. Something felt off still, the hairs on her forearms standing up straight as she tried to figure out what was going on. Why was he hiding from everybody?

 

 “You will?”

 

 Mabel imagined him nodding. “I promise.”

 

 If she came back later, surely she could convince him to come out or grow sterner and demand answers. That would be a better plan to awaking at dawn and trying to get anything out of her brother now.

 

 “Well... Alright. But I expect you to be there soon, not six weeks from now.”

 

 A small chuckle from behind the door startled her. It had been a while since she had heard that sound from her twin’s throat.

 

 “I won’t take that long, Mabel. You should probably go to bed now. You sound tired. I won’t be the one to keep you up.”

 

 There was something nagging at the back of her mind, warning her not to give in, but she _was_ tired. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad...

 

 “See you soon, Dipper.”

 

 As she walked away, she heard a faint mumble through the door in response, and smiled to herself. Hopefully he got to some sleep as well or she’d have another thing to lecture him on when she awoke.

 

* * *

 

 

 Dipper slumped against the door to the lab, running his sweaty hands through his hair. That had been close, too close. What if his sister had opened the door and barged right in? What would he have said if she had seen the disarray everything was currently in, books and papers strewn across the room, lab equipment lined up all across the counter?

 

 _At least Cipher didn’t choose to appear just then_ , he thought to himself in relief. If that had happened, he did not know what he would have done.

 

 In the past few days, the strange alternate personality had taken to appearing during the dead of the night and wrecking his lab so that he would always wake up in the oddest positions with something sticking out of his hands or legs. He did not seem to be keen on leaving the lab anymore, for which Dipper was eternally thankful. How on earth would he have been able to explain _that_ to Mabel?

 

 His head still throbbed occasionally ever since the failed test, and he often found himself pressing his fingers to his temples to try and lessen the ache. Whenever Cipher decided to return, Dipper usually felt a strong pain in his skull before he blacked out, only to reawaken hours later with a headache and memories belonging to Cipher coming back in minutes.

 

 “Bloody prick,” Dipper muttered angrily, standing up and heading to his crowded counter to try and organize the mess the demon had made. Some brother he must be, hiding from his own family.

 

 _It’s for their own good_ , he reminded himself. _Cipher could come back at any moment and do or say something awful. I still don’t know what he’s capable of or what he will do when he gets bored of roaming the lab and leaving messes for me to clean._

 

 “Probably nothing good.” The doctor sighed, realized he was talking to himself. With a bitter chuckle, he looked at the remains of the shattered test tube that he had swept away under a chair for now. “Maybe I _am_ going mad,” he said half-jokingly.

 

 Looking at the test tube reminded Dipper of his bigger issue at hand: discovering how to reverse the process of separating the evil inside. Because Cipher had decided to destroy the last remains he could have experimented on and drawn results from, the man was back at square one.

 

 Not only was he worried about the safety of his family due to this, but it had taken him a full year to complete that first formula. Who knew how long it would take Dipper to create another?

 

 “Far too long,” he whispered, despair clinging to his heart.

 

 He _had_ to find the cure for this. His original project could wait years if that was how long it took to destroy Cipher’s personality inside of him. And if that meant protecting Mabel, Stan, and Soos from knowing what had become of him... So be it.

 

 Dipper stared down at his equipment with a sinking heart. He couldn’t fail now; there was no room left for mistakes, especially concerning Bill Cipher.

 

 “Here goes nothing.”

 

* * *

 

 

 This was growing rather ridiculous. Dipper let out a moan, his head in his hands as the white liquid frothed in front of him. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working?

 

 Was it his calculations? Was he just doomed with bad luck?

 

 A knock reached his ears from the lab door, and Dipper found himself selfishly wishing that it wasn’t his twin sister or Stan. He could handle Soos, but his family was much more persistent and would most likely drag him out of the lab if they had to.

 

 “Who - Who is it?”

 

 Dipper flinched at the way his voice cracked out of nervousness, but he quickly forgot his shame in a moment when he heard a startlingly familiar female voice tease, “A certain fan of yours, Doctor Pines.”

 

 He found himself scrambling to get to the door and practically threw it open, smiling broadly at none other than Wendy Corduroy. The prostitute smiled back and stepped inside the lab once he waved her in. Something fluttered in Dipper’s chest at the sight of the beautiful woman wearing a simple black shawl and green summer dress. She somehow looked more _human_ than she had when he had last seen her in the brothel.

 

 “I did not realize I _had_ fans,” Dipper said teasingly, although something ached inside his heart at the memory of Gideon sneering at him and calling him a mad man. “What brings you here, of all places?”

 

 Wendy was not paying much attention, studying his lab with a small curious smile. For some odd reason, she did not appear to notice the drab gray colour of the walls or the mess. She only saw the equipment, his current project. She ran her finger over one of the beakers and suddenly seemed to remember herself because she straightened, meeting the doctor’s eyes with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just...I’ve never really seen anything like this before.”

 

 Dipper chuckled, blushing pink at her words. “Well, it isn’t anything impressive. The only people who have seen inside have been Soos, the butler, and my sister. Neither of them seemed to enjoy it as much as you seem to be.”

 

 The redhead glanced down slightly, a smile tugging at her lips again, but then she froze as if struck by lightning. Her head shot up and she frowned, studying his face with an unreadable expression.

 

 “You look tired, as if you have not slept for many days. Are you alright, Dipper? I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

 

 Oh. _Right_. Bill Cipher. In his excitement, Dipper had completely shoved aside all thoughts of the sinister man who shared his body. Now that he recalled the reason for the large mess in the lab, he felt uneasy about letting Wendy in. What on _earth_ had he been thinking?

 

 “I, erm, no! Not at all. I-I just was working very hard on my project, heh. You know... Just been busy, that is all.”

 

 Wendy perked up a little at his response, although the concern had not faded entirely from her emerald green eyes. “Oh, that is good. I suppose you’re wondering why I came to you, especially when we hardly knew each other the last time we met.”

 

 “It m-may have crossed my mind,” Dipper replied, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He glanced at the equipment scattered across the counter and the unease grew. Something nagged at him in the back of his mind, something screaming at him that he was going to regret letting her in.

 

 Wendy chewed her lip for a moment, hesitating before allowing her shawl to fall off of her pale shoulders. The young doctor let a gasp escape his lips on accident before hurriedly covering his mouth.

 

 Littered all over the woman’s shoulders were angry red welts, scratches running down her neck that he had not noticed prior, and an ugly bruise resting on her collarbone. Her freckled skin was covered in such marks, and if Dipper had not known her, he would have thought she had been sexually assaulted. But this was Wendy he was thinking of, who seemed more careful with her body than others in her line of work. Why would such a thing have happened to her?

 

 “What...? Miss Corduroy, how did-?”

 

 “Call me Wendy, please,” she said softly. Upon meeting her gaze, he saw that she was watching him carefully, as if judging how he was responding to the situation.

 

 “W-Wendy... How did this happen to you?”

 

 She hesitated and Dipper seized the moment to grab a lone chair, allowing her to sit as he rushed to grab a salve for her welts. “I, ah... I was walking home one night – the same night that we met, as a matter of fact – and as I rounded a corner... All of a sudden, a man leapt out of the shadows and grabbed my arm. I–I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined he was leering at me from the dark.”

 

 Dipper rubbed his temples as his head throbbed. A shadowy figure... Why did that sound familiar?

 

 He brought back the salve and began to apply it to her welts on her shoulder, trying not to blush at the terrifying thought of his twin walking in and squealing at the sight before her. Oh, _that_ would be an interesting story to explain.

 

 “He whispered in my ear that he was going to give me advice, something about staying away from an old friend of his. I think perhaps I just slept with the wrong person, maybe, and I tried to apologize. When I tried, though, he...he was not gentle.

 

 “It didn’t hurt that bad at first, which is why I thought little of it at the time. He told me to keep my nose out of trouble or he’d be sure to tear it right off, along with my ‘pretty little lips’, as he put it. He shoved me to the ground, and when I got back up, he was gone. No one was there and I only have my memories and the bruises to show for it. They started to ache as of yesterday, and I remembered your card, so I decided to come have someone I knew somewhat well check it out. People aren’t always dependable, if you know what I mean.”

 

 Dipper nodded, not listening as hard as he should have been. There was something off about her story, something nagging in the back of his mind. Why did he feel like he knew something about that encounter?

 

 “Wendy? What did that man say his name was? Was it Lord Robert?”

 

 She snorted, but at least his words (unintentionally, of course) brought an amused smile to her face. “No, certainly not. I would have recognized his voice. I believe he said his name was...erm, I believe it was Bill Cipher. Odd name, isn’t it?”

 

 Dipper immediately stopped rubbing the salve on her shoulders, the throbbing in his skull intensifying as his blood ran cold. _No. No, no, no, NO!_ That wasn’t supposed to happen, that shouldn’t have happened!

 

 He remembered it now, the fuzziness fading from Cipher’s memories, and he could almost hear the cackling inside his head from the other evil man. What had he done? Thank goodness Wendy did not recognize him or think he was hurting her on purpose, or that would make this mess much bigger.

 

 That last thought made his hands tremble. _He hurt Wendy. He hurt someone._

 

 That did it. He had to get her out of here now, before Cipher took over or did something incredibly harmful to the woman. God, of all the people Cipher could have gone after, he had tracked down _Wendy_.

 

 And he had done it on purpose too, if she was remembering the encounter correctly ( _yes, definitely, that was what happened_ , whispered a terrible voice in his mind).

 

 “Dipper?” He blinked in fright and saw the ginger staring at him in concern, having noticed that the young man had stopped rubbing the salve on her open wounds for a good minute now. “Is something wrong?”

 

 “N-No, I’m sorry!” _Liar_ , hissed the voice again, sounding delighted at his terror. The throbbing was growing stronger, the first sign of another loss of control, another blackout. “I just remembered that I needed to finish something for my project, not to worry. But if you would prefer, I could give you the salve and some medicine to take with you to tend to your injuries. I could be a while, I am terribly sorry!”

 

 She smiled at his flustered state, not realizing what a dreadful panic the doctor was actually in, and stood up to replace the shawl on her shoulders. “That is alright, I barged in anyways. I am to blame.”

 

 Dipper wrapped up the salve and handed her a bundle of medicines for her wounds, running a hand through his unruly hair nervously. He was trying to ignore the headache now, he really was, but it was hurting _so_ _badly_ and he just _had to get her out of here now!_

 

 “Again, I am terribly sorry for my mess,” the doctor said, ushering her to the door, plastering a smile on his face. “I am sorry for what that man, Cipher, did to you as well. Truly awful... If anything like that happens again, or if you just need company... Um, you know you c-can find me... Yes...”

 

 Wow, he was awful at this. Dipper flushed scarlet and looked away as she walked through the doorway. Why was she making him feel so nervous and causing him to stammer in her presence?

 

 Wendy laughed, to his surprise, and when he met her gaze, he only saw a mirthful twinkle in her eyes. She kissed his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark, and said softly, “I would like that very much.”

 

 He closed the door as she turned and walked off down the corridor, his heart fluttering impossibly fast inside his chest. What on earth had just happened?

 

 Before he could wonder about that incident for long, his head screamed in agony and Dipper let out a cry, slumping to the floor as he shut his eyes tightly. _No, please, not now! It isn’t even six just yet! I haven’t had dinner! Not tonight!_

 

 A low cackle rose from his throat, uncontrolled, and as his vision faded to darkness, Dipper’s heart sank in despair. _Oh, no._

 

 Bill Cipher opened his eyes as an impossibly wide grin stretched from ear to ear. Oh, Pine Tree. Such a naïve young man. Did he truly think that by wishing he would go away, it would come true? His efforts to reverse the effects of the formula were amusing as well; shattering that test tube had been a wise decision.

 

 He couldn’t allow the fun to end, now could he? Perhaps it was time to show Pine Tree that he was useful for _something_...

 

* * *

 

 Outside of a run-down brothel, two young men were conversing in quiet tones. One man had tilted his hat so that it covered his face from passersby and was glancing over at the moon that was slowly rising in the distance every so often. He couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched.

 

 “Meet me at work tomorrow, then, Robert! I will wait only so long this time,” the other man reminded him of the last time they had agreed to meet and Robert had shown up an hour late.

 

 “Bugger off, old sod,” he grumbled as his friend chuckled and walked away. Honestly, it was _one time_!

 

 Lazy Susan, the manager of the _Red Rat_ , emerged in moments from the brothel with a small scowl on her face. Robert tried not to flinch as he glanced at her lazy eye. That woman was stranger than he liked to admit.

 

 “I take it you had your fun?” she asked flatly, raising an eyebrow. “Did you pay her well?”

 

 “I paid her as much as she deserved,” he sneered. “I was not provided the girl I asked for this time. Where is she? Fallen ill?”

 

 Lazy Susan sighed heavily, used to this routine he put up every time he didn’t get his way. She did not usually mind when a customer asked for a specific lady to have their “meetings” with, but the man seemed a bit _obsessed_ with the poor woman. If she was honest with herself, she was trying as hard as she possibly could to keep the two apart. “Wendy is dealing with personal problems, sir. She requested to take off the night.”

 

 Robert growled under his breath. The damn woman was avoiding him, he just knew it! She had been so rude to him in the pub a few nights ago, and now she was pretending to have “problems” so he wouldn’t see her?

 

 “Tell her I am scheduling a meeting here tomorrow night, and she had _better_ be there! I am growing impatient of waiting on her ridiculous problems and emergencies.”

 

 Lazy Susan sighed again, writing his name down on her schedule she currently carried in her hands. _I’m sorry, Wendy._ “Yes, sir. Enjoy your evening.”

 

 Before he could complain any further, the older woman marched inside the brothel and slammed the door, ending the argument. Robert ground his teeth together in frustration before turning away and walking down the street, pulling his hat down to cover his face more.

 

 Wendy Corduroy was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. Ever since he had met her six months ago, he had fallen in love with her, only to realize after a short time of courting that she did not return his love. Enraged, he made sure to visit _The Red Rat_ every month, at least twice, so that she would _have_ to see him and take him back. Every time he came though, she was furious and would always scream at him, how he couldn’t do this, how he was being childish, before he reminded her that she had a job to do before the night was over.

 

 Honestly, he didn’t understand why she didn’t return his feelings. She had said so herself one night, while they were still courting, that he was the one who knew her best. Shouldn’t someone like that be part of that person’s life? Wasn’t it meant to be?

 

 She called him obsessed, and claimed he was driving her mad with these monthly “visits”. Robert snorted in a very ungentlemanly way, kicking at the ground angrily. “As if! Who could be madder than Dipper Pines?”

 

 “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

 The high-pitched male voice caught him off-guard, causing Robert to spin about with a sharp yelp before he was yanked by the shirt into an alley between two abandoned shops. He could not see the face of his attacker, but he caught a very brief glimpse of dark maniacal eyes gazing back at him and shuddered. It was as if he were staring directly into the other man’s soul.

 

 “What–Who are you? Let me go this instant! Do you know who I _am_?!” Robert tried to sound intimidating, but his voice cracked in the middle of his outburst and even he heard the terror laced in his words. Who would have the gall to sneak up on him and drag him into an alley?

 

 A low chuckle rumbled from the man’s chest and Robert found his feet leaving the ground as the man pulled him closer. “The name’s Bill Cipher, Robert, and I know _exactly_ who you are, _swine_. I’m here to do an old friend a favor, get back on his good side. Surely you can understand?”

 

 “What? What are you-?” Before Robert could respond in a coherent sentence, the strange man (what sort of name was _Cipher_ , anyway?) threw him to the ground, rendering him breathless for a good moment or two. By the time he looked up, his heart pounded in his chest violently at the sight of an evil grin, stretched as wide as humanly possible and a long swordstick with a hard pewter knob came crashing down upon his skull. The last thing he would ever recall was the terrible cackle arising from the attacker’s lips.

 

 Cipher couldn’t help himself; he laughed as he stabbed the arrogant man, beat him over the head with the swordstick (which he had found in Stanford’s bedroom, not that the older man had to know he was there in the first place), and stared down at the beautiful bloody mess he’d made. Eyeing the blood lingering on the blade and the pewter knob, the menacing man wiped it off on his spotless trousers, for once not caring about his appearance.

 

 “I knew pain was hilarious, but this was _hysterical_!” he said to himself aloud, chuckling as he imagined Pine Tree’s face when he awoke and remembered everything. “I should do this more often!”

 

 Leaving the estate had been a simple decision, truthfully. Deciding to brutally destroy one Lord Robert was just the icing on the cake. He had already been planning on showing Pine Tree that he was on his side when he had eavesdropped on the snobby man and discovered that he was bent on having Pine Tree’s new source of affection (which he did _not_ approve of, making himself _very_ _clear_ about that when he encountered dear Red the first night) for himself.

 

 Well, what better way to blatantly express Pine Tree’s views the way the coward would never do?

 

 “Did you get the message, my lord?” teased Cipher with a sinister grin. Hearing no response, he cackled loudly, not bothering to be mindful of his surroundings. “Oh, if only Pine Tree were here to witness this himself. I bet he would be enjoying the view of your broken body, yes?”

 

 Oh, how unbelievable it felt to be alive! This feeling of being _truly_ alive! Why hadn’t Pine Tree made this sort of mistake in his experiments earlier? The fun he could have had...

 

 _No matter!_ Cipher grinned wider as he twirled the swordstick casually. _I’m here now, and this is the feeling of being_ alive _finally! I can do whatever I want,_ whenever _I want, because Pine Tree can’t always stop me! Hell, he doesn’t even realize that we are one yet!_

 

 The games had just begun, and he, Bill Cipher, was enjoying the sweet taste of victory already as he walked off into the alley, harsh laughter echoing through the dark pathway until nothing but a cold bloody body was left in the darkness.

 

 Unbeknownst to the mad man, a pair of wide disbelieving eyes peered out in the shadows, shell-shocked. _It couldn’t be..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter* Well, that escalated quickly...
> 
> Also, sorry for not updating in a while. I've been busy. And I kind of lost the file for this fic too. But I got it back, so hopefully I can finish this without any issues.


	6. Murder, Murder

 The next eight days in London, England were chaotic and truly a living hell for Scotland Yard. Not one person in the city wasn’t concerned about their safety and their loved ones after the horrible news about Lord Robert’s gory death (a flat-out _murder_ in the streets of London!). Citizens could not believe their ears when it first came to be; surely this was a mistake, surely he couldn’t have been _murdered_ so brutally.

 

 It was only when the body was being transported to the coffin itself, for Scotland Yard had not allowed anyone to see the state of the man post-death, was when the madness began.

 

 Women locked themselves and their children indoors, terrified of awakening to discover that there was a cold-blooded killer standing over their bed with a knife ready to plunge straight into their heart. Men spoke in whispers at pubs and on the streets they watched their backs, travelling in groups of three if they had to keep that mad man away. Shadows lurking in the dead of night haunted everyone, scaring some into sleeping with a lantern in their bedrooms just to conquer their fear. There was talk of finding the killer, finding out who could do such a terrible thing, but nothing occurred to cause anybody to physically _do_ something.

 

 It was almost pathetic how easily people were scared of the incident in the alley late one night. They were convinced that someone was out for blood in London, and until that mad man was found no one was safe.

 

 It was also eerily frightening how accurate their suspicions were.

 

 Not two days after Lord Robert’s untimely demise, a teenage girl came running from around the corner, shrieking of how she had found another body, _a bloody, mangled female body._ There were stab wounds across the front and sides of the woman along with dark bruises on her throat, blatant signs of being strangled to death. Her dark lavender dress was torn to shreds, as if she had struggled to escape, and her purse was laying on the ground empty. Whomever had murdered the young woman was also a thief.

 

 It took merely a day for Scotland Yard to identify her as Lady Pacifica, which drove London into an even greater uproar than before. This mad man hated women too? Did he just hate the upper-class? It all seemed very odd...

 

 _Who could it be?_ wondered all of London in terror as they locked their doors and kept their loved ones close.

 

 The residents in the city did not know what he knew, what he had seen. He had been in the shadows, watching in fright as the mad man beat the pulp out of Lord Robert, holding Lady Pacifica off the ground and cackling as she slowly grew limp in his hands. He, only he, had seen the destruction up close, and that was why he knew he could not go to Scotland Yard and tell them of what he knew. Of who he had seen, of who had met his gaze and grinned so terribly wide at his horrified expression that night the young woman was murdered.

 

 _Murderer,_ hissed an all-too-familiar voice in his head. _He’s a murderer._

 

 He knew, he knew he had to do something, but he knew also that he would be foolish to try such a thing. It would be suicidal, given how deliberate the killer’s victims were.

 

 Gideon knew he was next, and that was why he had to escape before he became the next victim, the next to be found lying in a pool of his own blood on the streets of London.

 

 He had rushed to the train station as soon as he possibly could, informing Stanford that he would be taking a holiday for god-knows-how-long, and luckily the old gentleman, despite their differences, understood with a somber look. What would the elder have said if he had confessed to what his eyes had witnessed, what he remembered every waking moment and feared would become of him too?

 

 All of his focus now was in a letter he had regretfully written to Mabel, clutched tightly in his trembling hand. He knew Mabel did not return his affections (a fact which irked him to no end on a regular basis) but the least he could do was inform her of the evil work going on in her very home, and perhaps maybe save her from discovering the truth the hard way. It was the least he could do before he departed this city.

 

 _Coward_ , whispered the voice. _You’re afraid of the murderer._

 

 Gideon shivered, despite the warm summer air. Of course he was afraid! Why wouldn’t he be? A mad man was lurking about in London, killing his colleagues, and he was expected to be brave? Especially when he knew the killer had _seen_ _him_?

 

 Taking a deep breath, Gideon fingered the letter for another moment, praying Mabel forgave him for the terrible truth he would be instilling upon her, and closed his eyes. If he had not been so caught up in his internal musings, perhaps he would have noticed the fact that no one was left on the platform anymore. Maybe he would have seen the tall shadow inching closer, shaking its head condescendingly at the still figure.

 

 Maybe he would not have turned around, opening his eyes, ready to drop off the letter, and been so shocked by the sight of Dipper Pines leering over him, an impossibly inhumane smile stretched across his face. The top hat cast a menacing shadow onto his face, giving the appearance that his brown eyes were much darker and sinister. The black cane he carried was twirling carelessly in his hands, but Gideon knew better, having seen him wield that swordstick with such deadly precision and force.

 

 Before he could respond or make a move, Pines had seized his throat with one hand, gripping his jaw with the other after tucking the cane under one arm. With that frightening smile so close, the shorter man felt queasy, wishing that he did not appear so terrified of his deranged colleague in the face of death.

 

 “Bad news from God, Gideon,” came a low raspy hiss, not his regular voice but more high-pitched than usual. Everything vanished from his sight the moment Pines snapped the younger’s neck, the victim not hearing the awful CRACK that sounded once the job was done.

 

 Cipher chuckled at the sight of yet another body. This man was almost as persistent as Pine Tree, he had to give him that. He hadn’t noticed the extra shadow in the alley that first time, but once that blonde was dead (she was just a bit of fun, having been subjected to Pine Tree’s terrified rants earlier that day about how Cipher was suddenly in his head too, not just his body) he had certainly seen the pair of horrified blue eyes gazing at him. Clearly the man had thought him to be Pine Tree, which was deliciously funny and too good to pass up.

 

 “One more you don’t have to worry about, Pine Tree,” he crooned softly, removing the cane from under his arm with a wide smile. “You should be grateful I’m helping you out here, getting rid of those pests, you know. Oh, dear: what a mess we’ve made...”

 

 He glanced down at Gideon, the smile fading as he noticed an envelope sticking out from the man’s hand. He bent down and yanked it free, studying the address with curiosity.

 

_To: Miss Mabel Pines_

 

 Cipher cackled in glee before stuffing it into the pocket of his trousers for later. This certainly seemed like an interesting thing to read.

 

 “Well, we can’t have your sister finding _that_ , now can we?”

 

* * *

 

 

 Stan Pines did not understand many things in life: love, why people just did not _think_ sometimes, and his great-niece’s odd habits being a few. He failed to comprehend why some believed their opinions were correct or why old age seemed to be creeping up on him rather quickly. He did not understand why Mabel often came to him asking why Soos got paid so little when he helped out the family so much (to which he had begrudgingly agreed and ended up giving the butler a small pay raise, because his damn great-niece was going to make him go broke if he continued listening to her all the time).

 

 The greatest mystery of all currently was Dipper Pines’ change in behavior that had been evolving steadily ever since the birthday celebration.

 

 He was no moron; he knew the young man was dealing with some sort of problem, something important involving either Mabel or his work. The way he always ended up shutting himself away in the lab was a clear hint of something being amiss, not that the man had ever admitted to this out loud. It worried him that his great-nephew felt like he had to work out the issue alone, but there was not much he could do or say that would change Dipper’s mind. He had never listened to Stan much anyway.

 

 Unfortunately, this did not mean Stan didn’t wish to lend a helping hand or simply discover what the issue at hand _was_. Why was this new routine suddenly occurring? Had the twins gotten into an argument again? It wouldn’t be the first time the two had avoided each other after a fight (although those fights never lasted over twenty-four hours, he reminded himself mentally, ignoring the fact that even his voice of reason sounded nervous).

 

 The young man wasn’t _completely_ shut away, actually. Five days after the party, he had finally emerged from his lab and spent most of the morning and afternoon with his twin sister before vanishing again. It was mainly the same routine for each day following that, and while Stan liked that he was not ignorant and had thought of his sister’s wellbeing while shut up in the lab, he disliked being lied to or having secrets hidden from him.

 

 The only way to get through to Dipper was by confronting him and talking about it. However, he could never bring it up without a panicked look to slip onto his great-nephew’s face and he always made some sort of excuse before running off to hide once more.

 

 He had never had a true heart-to-heart talk with his great-nephew before, so the anxiety (when had he ever been this nervous before?) clawed away at his heart while the three quietly ate dinner that night. Stan picked at his food for once, watching the twins who were lost in their own worlds as they ate. Mabel was fairly cheerful as ever in her dark auburn dress and twirling her food about on her fork with a small smile lighting up her face. Yet in her eyes Stan could spy hidden sorrows and worries, probably concerning her brother, and it made a pang of melancholy strike his heart. As for Dipper, the young doctor was unusually pale, his hands trembling as he gripped the silver utensils. His eyes were glazed, not seeing the dining room or his family, with an unreadable expression on his face. Stan, who had prided himself on his ability to decipher people, found himself at a loss as he watched Dipper pick slowly at his food.

 

 God, how was he going to fix this?

 

 Without warning, the door to the dining room opened loudly and Dipper yelped as Mabel’s head shot up at the same exact time. While Mabel relaxed, the other twin tensed further, breathing hard.

 

 Soos hurried in, a somber look on his face as his eyes met Stan’s. The man knew immediately that this was bad news.

 

 “What is it, Soos?” Mabel asked, catching the worry on the butler’s face too.

 

 The butler wrung his hands, his eyes dropping down the floor all of a sudden. “I heard today that... I heard while I was out to grab some, um, chemicals for Dipper–”

 

 Soos glanced at Dipper quickly and the doctor nodded, a ghost of a smile flashing on his lips before it vanished just as quickly. Stan couldn’t help but wonder what on earth his great-nephew needed _more_ chemicals for. Didn’t he have enough already?

 

 “-I heard that there was another murder this afternoon,” the butler continued, his voice quiet and shaky. “It was L-Lord Gideon this time. His neck was snapped, quick and easy.”

 

 Mabel’s sharp intake of breath was not unnoticed by anyone in the room (nor did the way Dipper’s eyes bulged and his hands trembled worse slip past their knowledge). Stan felt himself having his own mixed emotions about the young man’s demise. The two had never gotten along well at all and it was no secret that Gideon had often expressed his views of Dipper’s “madness” both in public and right to Stan’s face. He was not positive if he ought to be mourning the newest victim or thanking someone for this news.

 

 The strange thing however, was that Gideon had met with him that very morning and had insisted on taking an extended holiday. Stan had known that the murderer was bent on killing the upper-class, specifically members of the Board of Governors, it seemed–and yet he had let the young man go without an argument.

 

 What would have happened if Stan had said no? Would Gideon have lived? Would the murderer have moved on to another victim instead?

 

 His gaze locked on the twins, who both looked like there were still dealing with the shock. His heart hardened at the thought of coming home to have Soos tell him quietly that his great-niece and great-nephew were dead, had been killed brutally out on the streets by some mad man...

 

 _NO. Get a grip, Stanford._ He took a deep breath struggling to calm himself as the anger and fear began to take hold inside his heart. _You can protect them from this, you just have to be smart about how you go about leaving the estate. You can’t leave the twins alone either, no matter what. You can’t take that chance._

 

 Soos looked uncomfortable just standing in the doorway so Stan waved at him to leave them be as politely as possible, noting the understanding in the man’s eyes as he shut the door with finality. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief towards Soos’s big heart and how he could act rather odd one moment, and then he was sympathizing with them and comforting someone the next (damn, maybe he should’ve raised that man’s pay up more).

 

 Stan found himself clearing his throat rather awkwardly, wondering a split-second later what he was planning on doing from there on as two pairs of brown eyes met his expectantly. Sometimes (oh, who was he kidding, it was _all_ _the_ _time_ ) he wished that his nephew and his wife had not lost their sanity, perhaps just long enough to tell him what he was supposed to be doing to help these kids. Because in his head, they were still just that – two eight year olds he had just met for the first time on their way to have a picnic. He remembered the first time he had seen them very well, having wondered to himself why on earth the girl was wearing an outrageously bright yellow dress and the boy continued to hide behind his father’s leg, peering out at the stranger in curiosity whenever he believed he was safe.

 

 Had anything really changed since then? Stan looked back into the twins’ worried brown eyes and swallowed back a lump of guilt. No, not really. They were just not quite as innocent as they had been before their parents went mad.

 

 “Grunkle Stan?” Mabel prompted, using that ridiculous abbreviation of his relation to them. No matter how many times he tried to hint at how strange that word was, the girl had never taken the hint. Eventually, if he was honest with himself, he had stopped complaining altogether because the name just _stuck_.

 

 That was enough musing for the moment. He had to speak with them about this newest murder.

 

 “I just... You know that I want what’s best for the two of you, right? No matter how, um, how–”

 

 “Grumpy you can be?” Mabel said half-teasingly, bringing a small smile to her brother’s face for a second before it faded away. Stan even found himself chuckling at her words.

 

 “Yes, that. Well, with this murder–these _three_ murders–I think it might be best for you both to go with Soos to his grandmother’s for a while. Just so I can, ah, straighten things out here.”

 

 He struggled to sound casual about sending them away, but with the shock written on their faces, it was difficult to keep up the façade.

 

 Mabel stammered out, “B-But Grunkle Stan! Why do we have to leave? Why are _you_ staying here?”

 

 Damn. He had hoped that she would not catch his implications about that.

 

 “M-Mabel, darling... Nothing is wrong, but I have to take care of some things. It’s...It’s better if you stay with Soos. I discussed the option with him a bit ago and he said that they would not mind if you both stayed.”

 

 “You think you’re next.”

 

 The soft voice startled the two, who turned to see Dipper gazing at Stan intently, his knuckles ghostly pale as he gripped the fork in his hand. There was something akin to fright and sorrow in the man’s eyes, but also what he thought was _annoyance_ about this decision. It took another moment or two before Mabel or Stan processed the words spoken and responded.

 

 “ _Next_? Dipper, what are you talking about?” The young woman bit her lip anxiously, her eyes wide as she watched her brother’s face too.

 

 “First Lord Robert was killed, then Lady Pacifica,” Dipper said hollowly, “and now Lord Gideon is dead. All three were on the Board of Governors, and you think you’re next now. You’re trying to keep us away and make sure...make sure the killer doesn’t find _us_ there when he comes for you.”

 

 Mabel gasped, trying to assure Dipper that this couldn’t be true, but neither male heard her as their eyes locked and Stan could have sworn that an apology flickered behind his hooded eyes before the younger looked down at the tablecloth. Stan swallowed another lump lodged in his throat, tuning out the one-sided argument Mabel was having with her twin. The younger twin had figured it out just so: he was trying to protect them from this mad man by sending them to the home of a lower-class resident.

 

 That didn’t mean his heart did not ache at the thought of being without the two, the silence in the estate slowly growing to be unbearable until that arse came to end it. He had to do what was right, after all, and he had promised his nephew that he would do everything he possibly could to protect the twins.

 

 Even if it happened to kill him.

 

 “Grunkle Stan wouldn’t be anywhere on that man’s hit list, Dipper!” Oh, god, she was still ranting. “Besides, if he was, I’m sure that he could handle that mad man! Have you seen that swordstick he keeps in his room? He can take him!”

 

 Dipper shut his eyes tightly as Stan pondered on why the older twin knew about his swordstick in his wardrobe and why she was even in his room in the first place. _Stan doesn’t understand what he’s doing_ , Dipper thought miserably to himself, fingering the fork still in his left hand. _He thinks he’s protecting himself by distancing us from him, but that just might make Cipher mad and he could actually go after him! Or nothing could happen, and Stan would be far apart as Cipher tears apart his next victim._

 

 Dipper imagined being trapped in a smaller home with his sister, Soos, and the butler’s grandmother. There was no lab for him to lock himself in, no safe way to keep Cipher in, no guarantee that the psychotic man wouldn’t come after _Soos_ next or _Mabel_ , god forbid.

 

 Realizing he was breathing in short pants, deadly close to hyperventilating, the doctor hurriedly stopped, trying to calm down as he noted Stan’s eyes on him still. Mabel wasn’t paying much attention to his breathing patterns or how white he had gone, thankfully, but he knew there would be no way to continue hiding such a terribly dark secret once they left for Soos’s grandmother’s house.

  

 _Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?_ Dipper wondered as he struggled to breathe normally and not scream in panic.

 

 “Are you alright, Dipper?” His head shot up like lightning at his sister’s concern, spying Soos enter the dining room once more out of the corner of his eye. Stan was staring at his great-nephew in worry as well, something close to suspicion in his eyes as well.

 

 “I just...I...” What was he going to tell them? Dipper was so irritated of lying to the ones he cared about and he just wanted to break down, have someone explain to him that everything was going to be alright, that they knew what to do to fix this horrible issue. Cipher’s presence was taking a toll on him, and it hadn’t been more than two weeks yet. The young doctor had no yet found the cure for this terrible side effect and was growing desperate as each night passed of hearing Cipher’s laugh in his head. He was forced to endure the memories, the little sleep he received full of nightmares involving the murders and the goddamn mad man he shared a body with. How could he possibly keep this façade up for the rest of his days? His family would notice eventually, much more than they did now, and he knew someday Cipher would not be satisfied with killing any longer, grow bored and try to find something just as equally terrible to do.

 

 “Dipper?” Mabel’s voice drew him out of his racing thoughts for a second time; this time her tone grew more urgent as if she sensed her brother was troubled.

 

 Dipper locked eyes with her, fighting back a scream as he saw the hurt and worry in her similarly coloured eyes. For the first time in his life, the doctor wished that he had never gotten the idea of creating that accursed formula in the first place. He had driven a rift through his relationships with others, and this living hell had to end _now_.

 

 “I, um, if you will excuse me... I need to go check on something in my lab. Goodnight.”

 

 Before anyone in the room could stop him, the young man stood and hurried out, running to the lab. Dipper heard his twin call out, but he forced his legs to continue moving forward, not to turn back. The doctor found himself breathing hard, struggling to control his emotions as he shut the door loudly behind him. His chest heaved as he fought for breath, the guilt and panic eating its way through his heart one minute at a time. _I can’t control this, I can’t stop Cipher, I am a failure._

 

 A loud cackle rang in his ears as his head throbbed for a moment, his vision darkening before sharpening once more, nearly giving the man a heart attack. _Don’t you see?_ Cipher whispered inside of him, giving the young man chills (and not in a good way). _I am you. Together we are the same, Pine Tree._

 

 The sound of the strange nickname didn’t faze Dipper as much as the horrifying thought of being one with this _beast_ inside him.

 

 “No, never!” he cried out, a sob catching in his throat. “I’m not you, Cipher! You’re a monster, you’re a demon, and you are going to get out of my life before I do something I will not regret!”

 

 _Like what?_ hissed the other teasingly. _Scream at me some more? Pace until you tear all of your hair out as you think of possible ways to destroy me? You have no plan, Pine Tree. You are weak and pathetic when you doubt yourself like this. What if I proposed a deal?_

 

 Dipper choked at the very idea. “W-What? No! Why would I ever make a deal with _you_?”

 

 Cipher cackled, this time condescending, and the doctor slumped against the lab door miserably. _Perhaps because you want me gone but you also want to control me. Tell me, Pine Tree, aren’t you the least bit fascinated by this new discovery of yours?_

 

 “You are not a _discovery_ ,” Dipper growled fiercely, keeping his voice down in case someone happened to venture down the corridor past the door. “You are a nuisance and a murderer!”

 

_You did not deny that you were fascinated by me._

 

 The man groaned, especially after hearing another infuriating cackle. It was as if the alternate man were standing directly over his shoulder, breathing right in his ear. The doctor found himself constantly shivering as goosebumps lined up upon his arms and neck from the terrifying sensation.

 

 _Terrifying_ and _fascinating? Oh, Pine Tree, you flatter me!_

 

 Dipper gritted his teeth together in frustration. “Are you reading my thoughts? Bloody brilliant... And stop calling me that!”

 

 _Calling you what?_ Cipher asked so innocently that it made the doctor want to throttle him – if he was able to, which he was not.

 

 “Th-That nickname! Pine Tree. It isn’t my name.”

 

 Cipher chuckled at the obvious discomfort in the man’s voice. _It suits you better! It feels much easier to call you Pine Tree instead of saying Dr. Pines or Pines or Dipper, even._

 

 “Well stop it!” Dipper scolded, feeling as if he were speaking with a toddler. “I-I don’t like it.”

 

 There was a short silence, confusing the doctor, who had not expected such a reaction. Cipher’s voice was quieter and deeper than before when he did reply, fear racing up Dipper’s spine as he felt something was terribly wrong. _You do not get to choose what I like, Pine Tree. I choose on my own. Besides, I am you, and since you have already approved of this name, I am KEEPING IT._

 

 Dipper yelped as the volume crescendoed without any warning, gripping his head and leaning back against the door. Why on earth did he have to create the bloody formula? Why had things spiraled so far out of control for him?

 

_Don’t ask me, Pine Tree._

 

 A fiery anger lit in his heart at the irritating words and he yelled, “LEAVE ME BE!”

 

 To his immense surprise, and slight terror, there was no response at all. It seemed like Cipher had slunk back into the recesses of his mind. However, he knew not to trust gut feelings and did not dare relax just yet.

 

 There was a soft knock on the door, causing Dipper to gasp before placing a hand over his mouth when he realized his situation. _Damn, damn, damn!_

 

 “Dipper? I heard yelling, are you alright?”

 

 _Damn,_ it was Mabel. He said, plastering a smile on his face, “Oh, don’t worry! I just was... I stubbed my big toe on the door, sorry! I am alright now, it just smarts, you see.”

 

 “Oh, alright.” She sounded upset, causing his fake smile to vanish. The guilt was creeping back into his heart once more. _He_ had caused this pain. He had hurt Mabel, and he didn’t know how to fix this. “Well, you have a visitor. I was going to let her in, but if you are in too much pain, she could come back.”

 

 Dipper’s eyes widened as he processed her words. _She._ Other than Mabel, no one had ever paid him visits.

 

 No one except for...

 

 “I am alright, she can come right on in, actually!” he stammered, trying not to blush too much at the thought of seeing Wendy once more. Was she really that interested in talking with him? Or had Cipher hurt her on some escapade he had not yet recalled?

 

 He scrambled to his feet in time for the door to the lab to slam into his face harshly. Yelping, he stumbled backwards in pain and a pair of arms grabbed him by the shoulders to prevent him from collapsing.

 

 “Sorry!” cried Mabel. She was not in front of him; she sounded as if she were walking away down the corridor instead.

 

 Then who was - ? Oh. _Oh._

 

 “W-Wendy?” he spluttered, blushing at the laugh he received as confirmation of his guess. Dipper hesitantly opened his eyes, relieved to see that he had not done damage to them at least, and realized the redhead was only a few inches from his face.

 

 Gulping rather conspicuously, Dipper gave her a smile and backed up in order to shut the door once again. “S-Sorry about all that. I have just been busy as of late.”

 

 Wendy nodded, moving to sit in a chair by the counter as she eyed the equipment still scattered across the counter. “Not to worry. I am not exactly put-together myself. It appears you have been working hard on your project, however. Has much gotten done?”

 

 _You have no idea._ “Yes, much has. I am merely struggling to create the right formula for this part. I do not know how long it will take, though, which is key.”

 

 The woman nodded as he walked closer, not registering that he was running his hands shakily through his messy hair multiple times. “Good, good! I was worrying that you had spent time worrying over these terrible murders like I have.”

 

 “O-Oh, those murders. Yes, I have b-been thinking quite a lot about them, to be honest with you...” Oh, he _really_ did not want to have this conversation right now. Not with Cipher’s state being so unstable.

 

 Wendy sighed heavily, brushing a few locks of her bright red hair out of her eyes. “I’m worried,” she admitted, “that this mad man is the same who found me that one night when you and I met. Perhaps he has me in mind for the next victim, who knows?”

 

 “What? No, absolutely not!” Dipper suddenly felt much guiltier knowing that his – no, _Cipher’s_ – actions were causing the young woman to feel terrified for her safety. “I am sure that he will not pay you a second glance, Wendy.” He instinctively took her hand in his, not bothering to hide his blush this time. “He probably is not even the same man! The murders have everyone in London on edge, and you may be feeling panicked due to this.”

 

 “I am not mad or panicked!” She snapped, removing her hand from his and turning away in anger.

 

 “Wendy, I would never ever joke about such a thing. Madness is not something I enjoy being referred to as nor do I prefer to recall certain things involving that word.” Dipper’s voice was deadly quiet, and he noticed Wendy appeared to tense up as he continued to speak. “I know people who have succumbed to that dreadful path, so I do not throw that word about lightly. As for the panicking, it is natural and I am in no way ridiculing you. I have _no_ _reason_ to do such a thing, Wendy.”

 

 All was silent for a minute or two, so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop. Dipper realized he was trembling and stilled his body the best he could so as not to appear weak or about to cry. Wendy did not turn around, but her posture had tensed further. He had no idea what she could be thinking.

 

 _Congratulations, Dipper!_ He thought to himself bitterly. _You managed to piss off yet another person you care about!_

 

 “Who went mad?”

 

 This inquiry was not at all what he had expected to hear. “I’m – I’m sorry?”

 

 “You mentioned people you knew going mad,” she explained, turning slightly so her back was not completely facing him. “Who were they?”

 

 He really had no need to tell her. He knew that nobody dared speak of what had happened to his parents, and only family and dear friends even _knew_ what had occurred in the first place.

 

 Wendy did not need to know. Usually when he was asked something involving his mother or father, he changed the subject rather quickly with a scarlet face and clenched fists.

 

 And yet Dipper heard words coming out of his mouth quietly after a moment of contemplation.

 

 “My parents. They were driven mad when my sister and I were twelve. We were sent to live with my great-uncle, and hence I have lived here for sixteen years of my life.”

 

 Wendy grew quiet once more. It was a moment before the freckled woman turned around finally to meet his eyes, studying him in the same way Stan always did whenever trying to decipher what he was up to.

 

 “You are certainly not who I expected you to be, Dipper Pines.”

 

 He frowned and nervously laughed. “I assume that is a good thing?”

 

 She slowly smiled, the warmth returning to her appearance. “Yes. Yes, it certainly is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay, Dipper. It'll all turn out just fine in the end, right?
> 
> ...Right?


	7. No One Must Ever Know

 It made Bill Cipher both mentally and physically ill to watch Pine Tree react so enthusiastically and tenderly to Red. What was so significant about the prostitute? She was no one special and far too curious for her own good. Pine Tree would be much better off listening to him instead and getting away from Red.

 

 Unfortunately, the young man was trying hard _not_ to listen to him. Apparently Cipher was unreliable and a nuisance, according to Pine Tree. Even though the young doctor had no idea that the woman was not interested in him romantically as of now (judging by the look in her eyes, she merely felt he was a friend he could trust), he continued to spend time with her, which irritated the other personality.

 

 How many more lessons did he have to teach the young man before he understood what he was up against?

 

* * *

 

 Mabel felt a little nervous about going behind her brother’s back about this, but the situation had come to a point where sneaking around was necessary, in her opinion. He had let that one woman whom she had never met before yesterday into the lab and had actually _spoken_ to her, unlike how he had been interacting with his own sister as of late. Why was some stranger more important than family?

 

 She took a deep breath as she stood in front of the lab door, glancing behind her and down the corridor multiple times as anxiety crept into her heart. Dipper was out buying more chemicals for his project, since he had decided to give Soos a break from assisting him. Praying that her brother did not catch her in the act, she opened the door just enough to slip inside and hurriedly shut it after her.

 

 Mabel blinked a few times as she stared around her, wondering how on earth her twin had become so disorganized as of late. Dipper would never usually stand for a messy workspace or even an untidy bedroom floor.

 

 _He must be really focusing on his project to forget about this mess_ , she thought to herself.

 

 Taking a few steps in, she eyed the beakers and utensils left all over the counter and made her way over to inspect their contents. _All empty. That makes no sense._

 

 Mabel muttered to herself, “This is just too strange.” None of this seemed like her brother at all. Had she walked into the right room?

 

 A book caught her eye, lying open to a particular page with something crossed out in ink. Chewing her lip, the woman debated reading it or leaving well enough alone. On one hand, if she read it, perhaps she would discover why her twin had been acting so oddly all this time. But on the other hand, this seemed private like a diary, and she knew how angry her brother got when people touched things that were his.

 

 _I have to figure out what is going on_ , Mabel told herself internally, chewing her lip with more determination. _For Dipper’s sake._

 

 With a sigh, she walked to the journal and traced her finger along the words, reading them in her head.

 

_July 1, 1884_

 

_This entire experience is taking a turn for the worst now that he knows I truly am trying to reverse my mistake. I constantly feel queasy and have to find someplace to sit down and just put my head between my knees in an attempt to relax. Nothing helps._

 

 

_I feel terrible for pulling away from my family but I cannot keep this up much longer if I am in their presence. Every time I look upon my twin sister’s face, I see innocence that I do not wish to destroy with my selfishness. How could I possibly find it inside my heart to tarnish such a pure gift?_

 

 

_Stan has every right to be suspicious, and I see that he is. He knows something is amiss and he is the one I worry about discovering what I’ve done. I know he does not support my original goal or my disappearances from the room constantly, so he would most likely bellow it across the estate if he is not careful._

 

 

_There is nothing much I can do to improve my new daily routine and to make matters worse, it feels as if everyone in London has become obsessed with those murders. I feel sleepy all the time, due to my newest issue of insomnia, but you know I do not sleep. The very last time that I ever slept peacefully was before my birthday, which seems like that too was ages ago. Of all the awful things –_

 

 A hand reached into her line of sight and slammed the journal shut with a sudden burst of strength. Mabel swallowed uncomfortably and met none other than Dipper Pines’ eyes.

 

_Oh, no._

 

 “Why are you in here? You know I don’t like it when you touch my things without asking, Mabel!”

 

 “Well I’m sorry if my brother is avoiding me and I want to know why!” Mabel felt a pang of guilt when he flinched, but she crossed her arms over her chest defiantly anyways. What was he thinking, hiding secrets from everyone and not showing his face more than once a day? Why was his work suddenly so much more important than spending time with people?

 

 “Mabel, I’m sorry, but–”

 

 “But what? You’re going to shut me out again, aren’t you?” She tried not to sound whiny but it came out that way when her voice registered in her brain. “Dipper, I just want to help. Please tell me what’s going on!”

 

 He shook his head, pulling the journal out of her reach and hiding it under his vest. “I am trying to figure out something important, something you cannot help me with, Mabel. I understand and appreciate your willingness to assist me but I won’t accept it.”

 

 Mabel fumed as the words sank in. He didn’t want her help? She had supported him since the very beginning last year, and now he wanted nothing to do with her when he was nearly done?

 

 “Why? Because that man you mentioned in the journal is trying to stop you from finishing?”

 

 Dipper’s body froze, his eyes bugging out of his head as his face slowly drained of colour. She had never seen her twin so frightened in all his life.

 

 “What did you read?” Mabel turned away with a scowl, determined not to give him a hint. If he wouldn’t let her help, she did not see any right to help him either.

 

 He spoke louder, more urgent and desperate. “ _What_ _entry_ did you _read_ , Mabel?”

 

 “Why do you suddenly care?” she shot back.

 

 “Because I want to know how much you read!”

 

 “I was almost done with that last entry. Instead of talking about the journal, why don’t you try and tell me _what_ _is_ _going on_?”

 

 Dipper sighed, running a hand through his hair. Mabel suddenly realized that she had yet to see her brother wash his hair since their birthday, as if he had not had time.

 

 Either that or he simply did not care about personal appearances anymore.

 

 “Mabel... Why can’t you just trust me on this?”

 

 “What about _me_ , huh?” His sister gestured to herself, tears pricking at her brown eyes as she choked on her words. “Why can’t you trust _me_?”

 

 Her brother groaned loudly. “Mabel, I do! I’m trying to protect you, alright? It’s rather difficult to do so when you’re asking questions you do not need to know the answer to. Yet.”

 

 “Let me help you, please.” She felt desperate all of a sudden, feeling as if she were losing the fight. No, she couldn’t lose, she had to help him.

 

 “ _No_.”

 

 “Dipper - !”

 

 “ _NO_! MABEL, YOU _CAN’T_ HELP ME!”

 

 A silence ensued between the two as Dipper breathed heavily, gripping the counter hard with white knuckles. Sweat was beaded on his brow, and Mabel couldn’t help but wonder if this was really her brother that she was seeing. Never had she seen her twin so unstable and... The look in his eyes was beyond concern, beyond fear: it was pure and utter defeat and panic.

 

 Seeming to remember himself, the doctor glanced down and slowly released the counter, wincing at the angry red indents in his palms now. His shoulders slumped in seconds, the defeated look returning to his face.

 

 “Dipper...?”

 

 He flinched before glancing up hesitantly, meeting his sister’s wide worried eyes. Mabel wished for the millionth time that day that she knew how to help the young man or even fix whatever issue it was that was giving him so much time to hole up inside the lab and hide from the world. She immediately disliked this new Dipper, wanting the old one back.

 

 The one who never kept secrets. The one who always spent time with her, no matter what. The one who wouldn’t ever scream in her face and look at her with such desperation and sorrow that it made her heart feel as if it had been seared by fire.

 

 “Yes?”

 

 “I... Dipper, I just want you to talk to me.” Her voice cracked slightly, much to her embarrassment. “I miss you, and I love you. You know I’d always support you and whatever mistake you mentioned in the book, right?”

 

 Dipper flinched once more, shaking his head furiously before she even finished talking. “Mabel, you don’t understand. That mistake... That mistake cost me everything. I have no way that I know to fix the problem and I don’t want you to get caught up in the problem too. I want you to stay out of it until I can find a cure.”

 

 “ _But_ –”

 

 “No, no buts. This is serious, Mabel. I _need_ you to take this seriously for once, because this is very important. It doesn’t involve just me anymore, this involves the sake of the city.”

 

 She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips before she hurriedly scowled it away. “Wasn’t that always what it was about, though?”

 

 A short silence made Mabel feel uneasy, especially when Dipper was looking at her so intently.

 

 The man in front of her composed himself, but it was obvious in many ways now that _everyone_ was worrying about this shit, that there was a great need for cause of alarm. The lack of a reply she was receiving scared Mabel.

 

 “Dipper?”

 

 The man shook himself back to reality and flushed a bright red at the sight of Mabel still standing there to wait for him.

 

 “I, ah, forgot what it was you had said. My apologies. But Mabel, you can’t intervene with my project, alright? I need to work on this alone, without support, for once. This may be a matter of-”

 

 “Changing the world. Yes, I know,” she couldn’t help but say sarcastically under her breath. Her brother had told her the same spiel every time she had asked why she could not help him in the lab, even before this whole “hiding in the lab” charade.

 

 Dipper flinched and made as if to speak but seemed to think better of it after a moment. Mabel wondered if there was any way that she could reassure her twin of her capabilities, and that he was not alone and did not need to be. She banished the thought after a second of hesitation, knowing it would do no good on Dipper now. He was far too stubborn to be convinced of such things now, especially if he had been holding up this far already.

 

 “Mabel... I promise when this is all over, I will explain everything to you. _Everything._ I will tell you, Stan, Soos, everyone. I just need to fix this mess.”

 

 Involuntarily, her gaze softened and she hugged him close before he could object. “If you know what you’re doing, and you _promise_ you will explain... I suppose you can do that. I will wait for you to finish, though, because then we will be having a _long_ talk, young man.”

 

 The doctor chuckled and gave her a squeeze. “If you say so. I promise I will keep my end of the bargain.”

 

 “Good!” Mabel’s spirits lifted considerably, although the nagging feeling of unease still remained. “Well, I suppose I had better let you get right back to working, right? Be careful!”

 

 She hugged him tighter before reluctantly letting go, smiling broadly at her brother as he returned the expression before closing the lab door behind her on the way out. Her smile faded as she stood motionless for a few moments, remembering the strange journal entry’s words. What was her brother’s mistake that he was so terrified and stressed about? Who was this mysterious _he_ that Dipper mentioned was trying to stop him?

 

 The questions whirled about in her head for a minute before she gritted her teeth together and came to a conclusion: she was going to have to figure out this mystery on her own without Dipper’s help for once. Even if it meant going behind his back.

 

* * *

 

 

 Dipper ran a hand over his face as he leaned back against the counter. He was a terrible brother, he was an awful human being for doing such sinful things to his own sister. How could he lie to her face about his work like that? He had never _ever_ lied so outright multiple times to Mabel, of all people!

 

 Cipher was the cause of all this disarray. There was no other explanation for such madness. The doctor knew he had to end this, and he knew that until his reversal formula was complete, nothing good would come out of this façade he had hidden behind for what felt like ages (but was really only about a week or two). The only issue was the fact that the formula was not quite ready yet _still_.

 

 _Having a bit of a dilemma there, eh, Pine Tree?_ cooed an all-too-familiar voice inside his head.

 

 Dipper chewed his lower lip in an effort to remain calm. “Do I _look_ like I am in a good mood, Cipher? Leave me be.”

 

_How rude! I came back to talk with you, not exchange insults, Pine Tree. This really has made you a bit grumpier than you usually are when working on this project of yours._

 

 “How on earth would you know how I usually act?”

 

 A soft dark chuckle echoed in his head as Dipper looked up at the ceiling, glaring at it angrily as if that would solve his problems. _I am you, remember? Did you expect me to be an ignorant fool and not remember everything that you already do? Did you think that I was just an addition to your mortal form?_

 

 “You are _not_ me!” The young man’s voice wavered slightly but he stood his ground with narrowed eyes.

 

 _So na_ _ï_ _ve and innocent, aren’t you? Oh, wait: no, you aren’t!_

 

 “Leave me be!” Dipper cried out, praying Mabel did not come back and begin to rummage through his supplies and materials. “You lie to me, Cipher, so get out of my life, you arse!”

 

 _How do you know I am lying?_ the man’s alternate personality pointed out with suppressed glee.

 

 He had not anticipated such a bold reply and was taken aback. “What? Why would - ?”

 

_You think I am lying to you when I say that I am not you? You think I do not know you better than you know yourself?_

 

 There was something smug in Cipher’s tone that worried Dipper, almost as if he already knew what the doctor would say to that. Dipper didn’t know what to say so as not to earn a snarky reply, so he did the obvious thing: he gave the remark expected of him.

 

 “Of course you do not know me better than I do! You are not me, I am my own person. That is that, end of discussion.”

 

 Cipher chuckled darkly, knowingly, at the man’s words. _Oh, Pine Tree. I beg to differ._

 

 “Oh, really?” Dipper couldn’t help but snap angrily, clenching his fists involuntarily.

 

 _Would I not be here if I was not part of you? After all, that formula was correct, and it did what you wished. The evil is separated from the good inside, the former being myself. I was once part of you, so I_ do _know you much better than you possibly know your own heart. We are the same, just two differing aspects of morality with separate names._

 

 “Now, hold on just one mome-!”

 

 _No,_ you _hold on, Pine Tree._ The other’s voice had gone cold and sent chills up the young man’s spine. Dipper swallowed nervously as a short silence ensued. He knew he had irritated Cipher and while the alternate annoyed him, he was certainly not foolish enough to continue arguing for the moment.

 

 _Ah, much better._ Dipper glanced about, rubbing his forehead as a dull ache began pounding in his skull. _You see, I am growing weary of these arguments, Pine Tree. As hilarious as you are, I feel like you are losing sight of what goals we both could accomplish together. I do not think you understand that with me in control, I have everything you do not: confidence, a fairly excellent reputation –_

 

 “You murder people! That isn’t a reputation!”

 

_\- And people understand what I want because I tell them, and they give me what I want in return. They listen to me quicker than with you, and I bet that if I had not had fun with those worthless flesh bags, they would never have given you any appreciation or one. Single. Kind. Word._

 

 “I do not need _you_ , of all people, to tell me how to live my life!” shouted the doctor, now both enraged and flushed with shame. “You are merely a creation in my mind, and you are a monster using me for your own twisted games! I do not need your input on what I need to do to improve my current lifestyle, Cipher.”

 

 Cipher paused for a second in thought. _You still do not appreciate what I have done for you._

 

 That was when something snapped inside Dipper. He gripped the counter tighter and growled out in a low voice, “What, pray tell, have you _ever_ done for me as of this moment that has not begun a chain of events creating more problems for me to deal with? You have murdered my colleagues, harassed a friend of mine, and insult me on a daily basis. No good has ever come from your existence, and I have absolutely no regrets when I say this: I will stop you. I will create that new formula and I will destroy you, Bill Cipher, if it is the _very_ _last_ _thing_ I do.”

 

 The silence following his last words was tense and Dipper eventually relaxed when no reply came. The throbbing in his head even vanished, leading him to believe that Cipher had gone.

 

_Good riddance._

 

 Dipper sighed and released his grip on the counter, rubbing the red indents into his flesh from the edge of the surface. He knew that there wasn’t much he could do about keeping the other under control, but there _had_ to be some quicker way to destroy the monster. There was no possible way for him to continue living like this without running into more issues and being accosted by family and friends. And with Stan saying that they might go to live with Soos and his grandmother...

 

 There was no telling what Cipher would do about that.

 

 “Pain in the arse,” Dipper muttered angrily, straightening his disheveled vest. He had not bothered to look in the mirror in the past days, barely bathing or changing clothes due to his inability to control when Cipher took over (he pictured the monster murdering Gideon wearing no clothes whatsoever and felt the need to both laugh and groan in embarrassment). His hair probably was messier than it usually was and he only combed it with his fingers these days. No wonder his family worried over his sudden change in lifestyle; he probably looked like a homeless man who had stolen his clothes off of an upper-class citizen in a brawl.

 

 _Cipher would probably like that a lot_ , he thought to himself, finding very little humor in it.

 

 Dipper removed the journal from inside his vest where he had hidden it and flipped slowly to the page right after his recent entry. Pausing for a moment, he picked up a quill, his hand hovering over the parchment with wariness.

 

_You have to. It’s now or never._

 

 Dipper sighed, knowing his conscience was right, and began to write the first of four letters to the only ones who now mattered.

 

_Dear Stan,_

 

 

_I know we have not gotten along well, and that you will probably trash this due to its absurd content, but I beg of you to please hear me out for Mabel’s sake._

 

 

_I know I have not been myself these past days since my birthday, and I apologize profusely. I apologize for being an arse and not noticing earlier that my sister was angry over my absences beforehand. I apologize for not coming to an agreement with you on my research sooner and for being so harsh. I have just been rather busy this past year and over the course of these most recent days... I have been dealing with a rather large and risky issue in my experimentation._

 

 

_Mabel cannot know of my horrible error, or of how I have failed her. Please do not tell her that I am trying to undo my mistakes, for she has been trying to uncover this secret, and it is vital to her safety (and to everyone in this house) that she does not know more than is necessary until I myself explain everything. I tell you this because I know that you will understand for you love Mabel as a daughter. I see it in your eyes. I know you would not risk her safety, and I thank you for that._

 

 

_I will also not explain this situation to you in detail due to the fact that I could possibly risk hurting you too. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to my family on my behalf. Surely you understand._

 

 

_However, I will say this: do not send us away. Do not send Mabel and I to Soos’s grandmother’s. I know you worry over being killed by this murderer in London, but I promise you that he is not after you. We are not in danger if you keep us close._

 

 

_I also cannot fix my experiment if you do so, which is much riskier now than before. I say that not out of selfish desire or for the ‘good of the world’ as I have told you before as a foolish excuse. I say that due to my love for my family and my concern for our safety. If I abandon my supplies and research, all hell will break loose, I promise you. I cannot stop the hell that will follow, and that truthfully terrifies me._

 

 

_I know you are probably questioning everything I have said thus far, and I do not blame you. Unfortunately I need you to trust your gut as you always say to do, and to please listen to me. I am only trying to protect you and Mabel._

 

 

_Your great-nephew,_

 

 

_Dipper Pines_

 

 The doctor hesitated before tearing out the parchment and taking a deep breath. One down, three more to write. Hopefully Stan would understand that he had to do the right thing for everyone. Sending the twins away would only fuel Cipher’s madness and Dipper had no clue what that would mean for the others, especially since he was prone to brutally murdering people on the streets.

 

_Dear Soos,_

 

 

_Despite being our butler, I will forever remember you fondly as my good friend. In no way have I ever looked down upon you as a servant, and nor will I ever. You are my oldest friend, and if you do not include my twin, I suppose that makes you my best friend too. You have always helped the two of us get through our tough times with laughter and supported us when our parents were sent to that dreadful asylum all those years prior to now. Without you, we would be lost._

 

 

_I see no point in sugar-coating this dilemma, so I shall get straight to the point: you are most likely wondering why I wrote you this letter._

 

 

_The answer lies in the fact that you are my friend and I worry for your safety. You have been gathering supplies for me faithfully, and I thank you for doing so, but I am afraid they have been no help so far. I have been attempting to fix a mistake in my formula, to fix what has quite possibly been the worst decision of my life, but I am back at square one so far._

 

 

_Where does this concern you? My dear Soos, I am afraid that this mistake will hurt you or bring you unnecessary pain. Do not allow Stan to send Mabel and I to your grandmother’s. That will only harm us further. The murderer will not come for Stan; you and I both know it but he thinks otherwise, and this will only hurt us all._

 

 

_I entrust you with this information because you are a smart man, and I know you will do the right thing. I know you care for us and we do so for you as well. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt on my watch, especially if you were protecting me._

 

 

_Please do not tell Stan I sent you this. I will be trying to convince him that we do not need to go to your grandmother’s in my own way so hopefully he shall listen to my advice for once, protecting us all._

 

 

_I apologize for the mysteriousness in the context of this letter, but it is vital that you know nothing about my work. I do not know what will happen if you do, only that something terrible will occur._

 

 

_Your friend,_

 

 

_Dipper Pines_

 

 He rubbed his temples vigorously and ripped out that letter as well, placing it on the counter beside the other. He wished that Soos was not involved in this mess, and that he did not have to alarm the butler over his dire mistakes, but the risk of hurting his friend was far too great. He could not chance possibly injuring Soos due to Cipher’s unpredictable ways.

 

 The next letter was not entirely necessary, but he felt she needed to know why had been acting oddly around her. He knew she was smart and could take care of herself, but the fact that Cipher specifically harmed her... It scared Dipper more than he wanted to admit.

 

_Dear Wendy,_

 

_I am dreadfully sorry for everything you have gone through these past days. I know you can see how much this craze with the murders has affected my life, judging by your last visit, and I offer my reassurance to you that everything will be fine._

 

 

_I am afraid that I was not entirely honest with you about the topic of my line of work. I do not work in the medical field, obviously, but my work deals with separating the good and evil in mankind. This is a personal theory of mine, which I have discovered can cause madness but possibly cure it too. It sounds tiring to you perhaps, but a year ago, I believed I would change the world with this revelation._

 

 

_Until recently._

 

 

 _Recently...I messed up. Wendy, I have messed up so awfully that I just want to,_ need _to break down and explain everything to somebody. But I cannot, or I will hurt them worse than before. And sadly, since I consider you my friend, you are one of the people I must include into this terrible category._

 

 

_I apologize for being cryptic in my writing, but it is necessary that I do not involve you further, for you have already been hurt by someone we both know. It was my fault that all of this even occurred and now that you are in danger, I feel as if I must right my wrongs._

 

 

_To do so, I must protect you through giving sound advice: do not return to my estate. Do not search for me. Stay indoors and keep away from any place where you could be jumped and murdered or worse. I say this not to scare you, but to warn you that the man who hurt you would not hesitate to do so again. The murderer and the man who assaulted you are one and the same, I have discovered, and you can trust neither. They both will not be afraid to hurt you, and I cannot allow that to happen._

 

 

_I care for your wellbeing, unlike most men who would only use you for their own personal benefit, dear Wendy. I say these things to protect you and I do not mean to drive you away intentionally, I promise. I only wish for you to not seek me out so that the one who watches me constantly will not hurt either of us more than they have already._

 

 

_My mistakes are being mended, but to do so I must do it alone. I am sorry for dragging you into my mess and my problems. I truly am._

 

 

_Praying for your safety,_

 

 

_Dr. Dipper Pines_

 

 Was that too long? Dipper chewed his lip as he eyed the parchment. He felt as if he was a bit out of line in calling the redhead his friend. She barely knew him, after all! Were they even friends at this point? Or merely acquaintances?

 

 _Just leave well enough alone. The letter looks just fine,_ he told himself. He ripped that page out too and stared at the blank parchment after he had placed it on the counter.

 

 He knew who was next to come, the final person whom to warn about Cipher.

 

 How could he do this? He had already lied to his twin once today. Why did he feel she deserved a slap to the face that this letter would bring?

 

 She had to know. She had to at least know _something_ about Cipher’s existence in case he was unable to stop the deranged demon inside.

 

 With a heavy heart, Dipper began to write the newest letter, praying to anyone above listening that his sister would forgive him for being such an arse.


	8. Dangerous Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are slurs and asphyxiation in this chapter and while I know you've been reading about people dying and shit so far... This is just in case you get triggered by this sort of thing. Bill is a jackass, essentially, and I apologize.

 She was an imbecile. A complete and utter imbecile who had no heart or brain apparently for not realizing what she now did.

 

 Mabel shakily wiped her eyes as she clutched the parchment before her. _Oh, Dipper._ How did she not see this before? The hiding, the sad look in his eyes that never seemed to disappear, especially when he was happy.

 

 She shut her eyes tightly and ran over the words on the parchment for the millionth time in the past hour.

 

_Dear Mabel,_

  

_You will probably laugh when you see who has written this letter to you, especially since we live under the same roof. Ridiculous, is it not, that I could not have the courage to say these words to your face instead of through some damn written words?_

 

_Well, I have been doing quite a few ridiculous things as of late._

  

_For one, I never got the courage to apologize for hurting you all year long by disappearing and letting you down. The fight on our birthday should never have happened and I am truly sorry. I am a terrible brother for never seeing it in your eyes before then, for being so oblivious all this time. Hell, even Stan knew before I did, and he normally doesn’t involve himself in our arguments!_

 

_Mabel... I have been a fool. I have hurt so many people, particularly those close to me. I have ignored others for far too long due to my obsession with my goal for the future, which I now realize can never occur._

 

_Unfortunately, by realizing all of these things, I have come to the conclusion that I am endangering all of you: Soos, Stan, and you especially. My research has gone too far, down a far darker path than I intended, and I am torn between decisions on how to alter this. I know you wish to help me, but it is very important that you do not. If I were ever to be the cause of hurting you... I would not know what to do with myself._

 

_You must leave me be to attempt to save my work while I can, but not for the good of the world this time. No, this time I must face my demons to protect my family and I am truly afraid of what could happen, dear sister. I am so sorry for hurting you as much as I have as of now, and I apologize for anything else I might do to harm you in the future, in case I fail._

 

_I want to thank you for supporting me as much as you have. You had no need to, particularly when I was being an arse to you, but you still did. It was this that made me appreciate you that much more...but it wasn’t enough to stop and think about being more caring and spending time with the one person who mattered most to me. You have always supported my choices and my work, and you are the only person at times who does so. You defend my reputation with no cause to other than our bond through blood, and you go as far as completely ignoring somebody if they insult me in passing._

 

_You deserve a better younger brother than I have been. I am truly very sorry for everything I have done and what may come. I know you will confront me over this as you always do, and I am prepared to shut you out. I cannot let you get hurt, so I must keep every last detail to myself until this storm passes. When I manage to save my research and make sure that I am no longer putting you in great danger, I will emerge from my lab and I will explain everything. I will greet you with open arms, Mabel, and I will never ever let you go._

 

_Forgive me,_

 

_Dipper_

 

 There was definitely something wrong. She had known it, she had sensed it in her gut, and now she could do nothing about it because surely he would never let her into the lab again. Now she could not speak with him because he would never let her into his heart again until whatever mess he had gotten into had blown over.

 

 Mabel really hated her brother’s stubbornness sometimes.

 

 If only he would see that she _could_ help! Whatever had gone wrong in his researched involved her too, if it meant that he had endangered them. Did that not mean her twin was also in need of protection from this problem? Had the formula been destroyed before he could find a way to test it?

 

 Mabel wished she knew all of the answers to the questions whirling about chaotically inside her head. Dipper was being silly by keeping her out, she just knew it! She had to help, she had to talk with him, she needed to get him to understand the mistake he was making...

 

 But how could you speak with someone when they’ve already warned you that you will be ignored purposely?

 

* * *

 

 

 Foolish. The doctor was foolish and ignorant and driving him mad.

 

 Why wouldn’t he listen? Why wouldn’t he _try_ and understand _his_ point of view?

 

 Cipher had to teach Pine Tree a lesson once and for all, especially when it concerned this pressing matter of the four letters sent out and distributed in secret by the disobedient young man himself.

 

 And if that meant breaking him down a little more for his own good, he would be dreadfully happy to do so.

 

* * *

 

 

 Dipper wished he had never thought a single thing about this whole “good and evil” theory a year ago. He wished he had been like normal doctors and studied medicine, something that would actually benefit the city now. Perhaps he would not be in this awful situation if he had not been so careless and come up with that idea in the first place.

 

 Instead, he was dealing with a demonic alternate personality that murdered citizens for fun and was now endangering the lives of everyone in London, especially those close to him.

 

 He groaned and hit his head on the counter twice out of aggravation. He had been struggling to recreate the damn formula for the past two days to no avail, and the man was growing desperate with every passing moment.

 

 There also had been no sign of Cipher returning to his body, which was both a relieving and terrifying thought. It was almost as if the other had decided to lay low for a while.

 

 Dipper wasn’t sure if he preferred this new silence in his head, not knowing what the alternate was thinking any longer.

 

 He picked up the beaker he’d been using and glared at its murky contents. _Why could he not get this formula right?_

 

 A soft knock on the lab door caused the man to tense up, heart hammering in his chest. He knew he should not open the locked door, knew he should not dare risk trying to have company while he was like this. But oh, he wanted to. He wanted to respond and just chat with someone for a little while. It had been so long since he had had a normal conversation with somebody other than Cipher (if you _could_ call those talks _normal_ ).

 

 “Dipper?”

 

 Shit. It was Stan.

 

 “Look, I know you’re in there. I...I won’t ask you to come out, seeing as you’ve locked the door and probably want to be left alone. However, your sister is worrying about you and she...look, she misses you. We all do... Your letter didn’t exactly help with that. Whatever it was that you said to her, she’s been distraught and wants to see you. I just want to know that you are alright and you know what you’re doing. If this mistake you talked about is putting us in danger, I want to help, Dipper. You can’t do this alone.”

 

 Dipper felt something hard lodge itself in his throat, an awful taste lingering in his mouth. He felt ill, as if he were going to vomit.

 

 “I just...I wanted you to know that in case this gets too dangerous. If you need assistance, please come to me or Mabel. You can’t shove everyone away and expect them not to want to help you.”

 

_But you can’t. You can’t help me now._

 

 There was a pause, and he knew Stan was wondering if the doctor would reply in any way. Getting none, Stan said quietly, “Soos gave me your lunch so I will just leave it outside the door for you. Make sure you eat and stay healthy, Dipper.”

 

 A soft clank of a tray being placed on the floor reached his ears and in the fading footsteps, Dipper found himself trembling like a leaf.

 

 Mabel was worried about him. _Stan_ was worried. And they both wished to aid him in his quest to create the formula with the ability to destroy Cipher for good.

 

 No, this would not do at all.

 

 He steeled himself and walked to the door, slowly fumbling with the lock as his fingers felt like overgrown radishes rather than part of his body. Once the door was open, he stared down at the silver tray, eyeing the abnormally large meal that the butler had made for him alone. Greens were sticking up in every which way all around a hefty steak with potatoes clumped together on the side of the meat. A small white paper stuck out from underneath the steak, some juice from the meat splattered across it in an unintentional frenzy.

 

 Dipper found a smile tugging at his lips as he imagined Soos taking time to create such a large meal for one person only. Oh, what would he do without the man?

 

 He stooped to pick up the tray and froze once his hand had locked around the cool metal. He could hear faint footsteps coming down the corridor, heading right for his lab.

 

 Panic took over in his head and he hurriedly picked up the tray of food before shutting the door with one swift move. He relocked the lab door and sighed heavily, hearing the footsteps pause for a second before fading away.

 

 Being around no one for the past couple of days had caused the young doctor to panic and tense up at the mere sound of someone approaching his new living space. He was afraid to leave the lab due to the missing appearances of Cipher, whom he could always count on taking over his helpless body once a night. What if he tried to speak with Stan and then transformed into the other man five minutes into conversation?

 

 He could not allow any stupidity on his part. He had to be on his toes and rely on his heart instead of his head now. And his heart told him that to protect his family and friends, he had to keep Cipher away from them all at any cost.

 

 If this meant hiding from all life forms, Dipper would gladly do so to keep them safe.

 

 But for how much longer?

 

 Dipper groaned and set down the tray on a rare empty space on the counter, picking up the fork and knife the butler had provided and beginning to cut before he remembered the piece of paper. He pulled it out hard form where it lay under his food and tried to wipe away some juice staining it the best he could.

 

_Dipper,_

 

_I know you said not to get involved with this mess of yours, but I want to help you more. I’m glad the chemicals and supplies were helpful. Are you in need of anymore? I do not mind going to grab some for you, if it means you will fix this issue sooner._

 

_We miss you. I have faith in you, Dipper._

 

 Dipper covered his mouth and let the paper flutter to the ground as he trembled once more. Leaning against the counter, he placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes tightly.

 

 Why did they have to want to help so badly? Did they not realize that he was trying to keep them all away by sending those letters out, not bring them running to him like flocks of sheep?

 

 “I am only trying to do what I feel is right,” the man said numbly, his words muffled by his hands. “But what is right is difficult to accomplish with everyone I care for attempting to aid me.”

 

 A soft chuckle left Dipper’s lips, and he froze immediately. The sound had not been made consciously by the doctor. Only other could have done so.

 

 Without warning, his head throbbed and seared in pain, and he fell to his knees, shaking all over violently. He shut his eyes against the agony and hated how he (no, this wasn’t him, he had to remember that!) laughed darkly at the feelings engulfing his body.

 

 _Fool. Did you think I was really gone?_ No, not Cipher, please not now.

 

 “Get...out!” he managed to choke out before crying out in pain.

 

_Oh, that’s not very nice. I expected a happier welcome. You’ve been missing me, I can tell._

 

 Dipper tried to protest but a new wave of agony caused the man to tense up and pant heavily as he fought against the transformation he knew would take place in a minute.

 

_You know, Pine Tree, I don’t want to have to force this change on you. You’re bringing this pain upon yourself by fighting. Then again, I suppose this just proves I have to do what I must to convince you that you are making a mistake._

 

 “What are...you-?”

 

 A sharp throb caused Dipper to curl in on himself as he laid down on the floor. _You don’t appreciate everything I am offering you, everything I have done for you as of now. That needs to change. And if I have to punish you to get what I want... Then I am afraid that is the only way I must do this._

 

 “P-Punish...? No!” Dipper struggled to lift his head off the floor, but his eyes were already feeling heavy and the pain was making his limbs go numb. He had been ignorant, so foolish to believe Cipher was giving him peace for just a little while.

 

 _I’m afraid so, Pine Tree._ Despite the sympathetic words, he could hear the glee in the other’s tone.

 

 “I wo – I won’t let you!”

 

 The cackle from Cipher made his body shudder as darkness crept at the edges of his vision. _Oh, you are adorable, really. You believe that you can stop me? Go on, Pine Tree: **STOP ME.**_

 

* * *

 

 

 Wendy knew what she did for a living had consequences. Sometimes those consequences had negative effects on her life (being shunned from church for going against the bible, being obsessed over by some downright disturbing folk, etc.) but she knew that sometimes you have to suck it up and deal with your choices.

 

 She contemplated this as she sat in her room in _The Red Rat_ , twirling a long strand of red hair between her fingers idly. Technically she was done with work for the day, but she found herself lost in thought as she remembered the man she’d slept with this time.

 

 He had not been that good-looking with his darker skin and black hair, trying to force her to take her time as the night had gone on. Apparently he had wanted to take it slowly and savor every moment he got with the ginger prostitute, something she had not experienced before. Robert was always so needy and screaming in her ear, telling her to speed it up and help him out. This man (she thought his name was Nathaniel, but it was hard to recall after everything they had done) had wanted to enjoy her company instead of merely using her as a toy.

 

 If only there were more men like that.

 

 There was only one other who had taken the time to actually enjoy her company (but in an entirely different way) and that was Dipper Pines. As she thought of him, Wendy’s heart fluttered at the memory of their more recent conversation. They had only met twice but she felt as if she could trust him more than most people she had encountered over the years. He was unusually kind to her, so flustered and shy at times that he reminded her of a young child afraid to speak his mind. He seemed not to think of her as merely “the whore” but as Wendy, herself.

 

 And yet there were times when he surprised her, stern and pent up with anger, tired eyes gazing at her. She remembered his outburst from the last time they had spoken, and wondered how he could change so easily like that. He was stubborn and clearly proud of his work, but there was an underlying nervous nature to his appearance and a hidden fear flickering in his eyes when she had gotten too close for comfort. It was not as if he were terrified of _her_ , but more as if he were scared of his own actions. It was this she did not understand and pondered deeply.

 

 Wendy smiled softly to herself at the memory of how flustered the doctor had been when she had approached him. He had looked so out of place in her brothel, and not just because of his fancier clothes. There was something wary in his brown eyes then, embarrassment for having to see women and men behave so animalistic. She had seen him glance at her many times, as if afraid to speak to her, not appearing to want her for her body like the others did.

 

 She remembered how Susan had scolded her for growing attached to some random passersby who did not make any move on her. She reminded the redhead that they were here to make money and keep customers happy, not to strike up conversations. That night Wendy had been especially moody after Dipper had gone, not putting her whole being into the intimate time she’d been given with the blond scruffy man later on.

 

 Wendy pulled out the doctor’s card from under the pillow as she rested against the bed, tracing over his name, wondering why he had felt such a strong need to make sure she was alright after she had stormed out of _Greasy’s_ that evening. Why would he care so much for some woman he did not know, some stranger he could have simply ignored? Why did she think so much of him in return, wanting to be around him often and just longing to speak with him as she could with her father and brothers?

 

 A sudden knock on the door made her jump and stash the calling card under the pillow once again. “Come in!”

 

 Susan stuck her head into the room, a slightly apologetic smile on her face. The woman appeared surprisingly kind at the moment, but something akin to terror lingered in her eyes, warning Wendy to run.

 

 “Sorry to bother you, but you have another customer. Would you mind...?”

 

 Wendy tried not to let it show how irked she was by the late request. “No, not at all.”

 

 “Oh, good. I will send him right in.”

 

 As Susan left she let out a puff of hot air, balling up the sheet under her hands tightly. Some men were pricks like this, waiting until the last possible moment to request her to work.

 

 The door reopened in a few moments and she stood up, plastering her most seductive smile upon her face as she tossed her hair over one shoulder so it wasn’t in her eyes. The very next second though, she froze in shock and felt as if her world were reeling.

 

 “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise! Did you miss me, _dear_?"

 

 “Y-You...what?” Wendy found herself speaking incoherently, unable to gather her thoughts as the man dressed in black, his top hat casting a shadow over his face, entered and shut the door behind him rather loudly.

 

 She had not been entirely honest with Dipper when explaining how she had gotten those welts and bruises; the ginger had indeed seen what the man had looked like, although his face was hidden from view like it was now. She had been afraid Dipper would seek out the man if she had told him what the stranger had looked like, and now that he had returned...

 

 “Oh, did I surprise you?” the strange man asked, although it wasn’t really a question. He moved to stand in front of her, not quite as tall as she was, but the glint of his eyes under the hat still intimidated her. Wendy unconsciously rubbed her neck, feeling one of the welts still there. “My apologies! Well, not entirely. I wouldn’t be here in the first place if I had not intended for this to be a surprise, see. Among other things.”

 

 Oh, god. Was this brutal man intending to have sex with her? She couldn’t stop herself from shuddering at the idea.

 

 The man did not miss the action and smiled gleefully. He ran a hand down her pale arm, grabbing her wrist with his other hand when she attempted to pull away.

 

 “I see you’ve been busy here. Having fun, are we? I suppose that’s good, given your, ah, _occupation_.”

 

 “What do you want?” Wendy managed to spit out, failing to hide her revulsion at his touch.

 

 She did not miss how his smile grew at this. “Oh, it isn’t what _I_ want, Red. No, this is about that dear friend of ours I mentioned before.”

 

 “Th-The one you said to stay away from.” Wendy eyed him warily as he tightened his grip on her wrist and moved the hand to her collarbone. Every bone in her body screamed at her to escape, to run, but she knew running from this disturbing man would not end well, especially when he was not hurting her just yet.

 

 “Good girl. You seem to remember that at the very least. Unfortunately...you did not heed my warning and instead went right ahead to disobey me.”

 

 The hand on her collarbone was suddenly squeezing her throat, terrifying the ginger that much more. She tried to swallow but it was growing difficult to breathe. The cold look in the man’s eyes told her he was holding back a fury deep inside his heart (did this man even _have_ a heart, though?).

 

 “Why did you go to him? Why did you _disobey_ me, Red?”

 

 She really did not like how he said that new nickname. “Wh-Who?”

 

 “ _DON’T PLAY DUMB_!” Wendy almost shrieked when he shoved her against the wall, completely pressing his body against hers, the hand growing tighter around her throat with every passing second. She began to see spots dancing across her vision and prayed to God that the man would just kill her already and leave her be. “YOU _KNOW_ WHO I MEAN! WHO ELSE HAVE YOU SEEN LATELY, _YOU LITTLE WHORE_?!”

 

 _Dipper._ Her eyes filled with tears unbidden as she realized he was the only person outside of work that she had visited.

 

 Seeing the light dawn in her green eyes, the mad man smirked without amusement in his expression. “Oh, you understand now, don’t you? Well, he is a friend of mine and he wanted me to give you this letter, telling you to stay away. But see...I thought it would be much more _effective_ if I came myself.”

 

 “Y-You’re no friend of his!” Wendy found herself choking out. Dipper wouldn’t deliberately ask some mad man to hurt her and there was no way he would tell her to stay away after giving her his card.

 

 The man chuckled and let her drop to the floor as her vision started to grow dark. Wendy coughed and choked on air– _sweet_ _precious_ _air_ –as he stooped down to meet her gaze, withdrawing a piece of parchment from inside his cloak.

 

 “Oh? You do not believe me? Then what is this?”

 

 Wendy glanced at the parchment held out to her and hesitantly accepted it, watching the stranger out of the corner of her eyes as she opened it. A sense of dread filled her heart as she read the first few lines. It was from Dipper, and he sounded distraught.

 

 “You see, Red,” she shivered as an arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her painfully close to the man’s chest, “I don’t like to lie to people. I am merely doing my friend a favor, and he needs you to stop visiting his home. I am afraid you are distracting the young man from what he needs to focus on, which is not acceptable.

 

 “So do we have an understanding now, my dear? Or will I have to punish you both?”

 

 Wendy shivered again as his lips brushed her ear and shut her eyes tightly. Nodding curtly, she looked back down at the parchment, unsure whether she wanted to read on.

 

 A low chuckle escaped the man’s lips. “Excellent. Just remember, dear, I will be watching you.”

 

 The arm unwound itself from around her waist and she nearly fell on her back as he stood and left the room as if nothing had happened. She found herself trembling and clutched the letter in one hand with a sinking feeling in her chest.

 

 What had that man said his name was the first time? Cipher? She ought to report this to Scotland Yard – but they were all thick and likely would try to take advantage of her “job” if she went to them.

 

 The only people she could possibly talk this over with were Susan (no, probably not, given the fear she had seen in the woman’s eyes earlier), her family (who did not like her line of work very much to begin with and might just tell her she had gotten mixed up with the wrong kind of men), and Dipper.

 

 Which basically left no one.

 

 Wendy moaned in exasperation and buried her face in the palm of her hands as she let the letter fall to the ground. Why was Cipher trying to keep her away from Dipper? Had the doctor bitten off more than he could chew in his experiments?

 

 Cipher had claimed she was to blame for causing Dipper to lose focus on what he was supposed to be doing. Did he mean the man’s work? Wendy had not thought that she had distracted him much while she was there. She never stayed for too long anyway; she had felt as if it was wrong to take up too much time when the doctor had more important things to be doing.

 

 Apparently she was more of a nuisance than she had thought.

 

 Wendy glanced at the letter and hesitantly picked it up, not really wanting to see what the man had to say anymore. She read it numbly and did not notice the tears leaking from her green eyes until one dropped onto her name written on the parchment.

 

 She scrubbed fiercely at her eyes but it did not stop the queasy feeling in her gut from making her heart ache. She felt ill, like a virus had infected her soul, and now that she was alone...she didn’t know what to do.

 

_I will be watching you._

 

 The prostitute shuddered as the words echoed in her mind, the fear clutching at her heart very real as she imagined him making good on that underlying threat in his every word. She had seen the cold look in his eyes; she knew he would show her no mercy if she went to Dipper for help again.

 

 Yes, she was definitely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you expect? This story is only going to get darker from here on out, you know...


	9. Façade

 Dipper couldn’t stop pacing. He knew this much pacing could not be good for his sanity, but he was unable to sit still, unable to stop thinking of this dreadful mess he had gotten himself into.

 

 Cipher was ruining him. The alternate personality’s very existence was taking a heavy toll on his heart and those around him. The doctor found it difficult to eat or drink without recalling Wendy’s terrified face as Cipher nearly strangled her to death, the blood of the members of the Board of Directors dripping down the palms of his hands as Cipher cackled in glee. He barely slept and when he did, he dreamt of the murders and Cipher’s terrible laughter echoing in his ears.

 

 The other had not taken control since the incident with Wendy, but he had certainly returned for conversation, trying to convince Dipper that what he had done was good for them both. Dipper tried as hard as he could not to react or respond, but it was hard when his thoughts could be read by the other.

 

 Dipper was so worried that Wendy thought the worst of him now, and that she thought he had befriended the very man she had been abused by that night they had met. He did not dare leave the estate to meet with her over this, given Cipher’s ability to take over whenever he desired, but oh, he longed to. He felt responsible for this whole bloody (pun not at all intended) mess. If only he could do more than play right into the damn maniac’s hands with this disturbing game at hand.

 

 _Your thoughts are adorable when they’re so scared and worried, Pine Tree_ , cooed the mad man now. _However, I thought we agreed not to think about this whore friend of yours?_

 

 “Wendy is not a whore!” he barked impulsively, forgetting not to respond. “And I agreed to no such thing!”

 

 Cipher chuckled at the man’s anger, reveling in the waves of fear and panic rolling off his soul. While physical pain was hilarious, the internal emotional pain of his Pine Tree was hysterical and ten times funnier.

 

 _Her entire occupation_ involves _being a whore, Pine Tree. Oh, and I guess I forgot to tell you not to do that then! Oops. Well, now you know._

 

 “Leave me alone!” Dipper snapped, longing for when Cipher had not been with him every waking moment, whispering these things into his ear.

 

_But where’s the fun in that?_

 

 “You _going_ _away_ is what makes it fun for me!”

 

 Cipher chuckled. Ah, the man was growing a backbone. Good.

 

 _Oh, Pine Tree. Don’t you see? I_ am _you. How could I ever leave you when I am part of you?_

 

 Dipper swallowed down most of his anger and settled for a calmer tone as he replied, “You are evil and a monster. You may live inside me, but you are not _me_.”

 

 Did he _still_ not understand? Cipher sighed and wondered why on earth he had to be part of such a stubborn person.

 

_Pine Tree, you are only denying the truth. I am being patient with you, but you are making me angry now. You are smarter than this._

 

 “There is nothing to deny.” Dipper refused to believe that the monster was part of his soul. No, this had to just be some evil created by the formula.

 

_Really now, I had hoped we would not have to deal with this the hard way._

 

 Dipper stopped pacing long enough to slam his hand down onto his journal, which rested on the counter. Ignoring the pain that shot into his hand, he snapped, “You’ve been using me long enough, Cipher! I am not your toy!”

 

 _Not a toy, no_ , mused Cipher, delighting briefly in the pain he too felt. _No, I would not call you that. Not very suitable._

 

 The young doctor growled under his breath before rubbing his hand and eyeing the tray of lunch Soos had left outside the lab door hours ago. It had gotten cold by now, but Dipper wondered if it was still good enough to eat.

 

_On a serious note, you have to realize that I am doing this for our own good, Pine Tree._

 

 Dipper groaned loudly and picked up his fork to begin eating his potatoes. “There is no _good_ involving the two of us, Cipher. Your goals vary widely from mine and I want nothing to do with them.”

 

_You haven’t even given me a chance to speak. We both want people to stay out of our way, yes? We both wanted Red to not bother us and we wanted her to be certain not to get in our path. Is that not what I did?_

 

 The man almost spat out the food in his mouth, suddenly repulsed by the idea of eating just yet. Had Cipher _really_ just said that?

 

 _Don’t act so appalled, Pine Tree. I was just doing what I thought was good for us both. I believe a little ‘thank you’ is in order._ Cipher felt smug as he heard the doctor’s thoughts whipping around his head, all frenzied and trying to process what he was hearing. Oh, how this man amused him.

 

 “No, n-no!” Dipper couldn’t suppress his disgust at what he was hearing from the mad man. “I just wanted Wendy to be safe, I would never have done what you did and scare her to death! That’s different! We are _nothing_ alike.”

 

 Cipher clucked his tongue disapprovingly. _Those fall into the same category, do they not? She would never have listened to your letter unless you sent her a_ real _message that told her what she had done wrong and how she could avoid being punished._

 

 “Punished? Wendy did nothing wrong!” Dipper cried in horror, trying hard not to remember the awful welts all over that Cipher had caused. “ _You_ were the one who decided to attack her both times!”

 

 _And_ you _were the person who wrote the letter_ , the other personality reminded him.

 

 The doctor shut his eyes tightly, feeling bile rise in his throat. “I was _trying_ to protect her from you. I never attacked her.”

 

 _Oh, but we are the same. How could I have done all of these things and_ not _be part of you, Pine Tree?_

 

 Dipper swallowed hard and buried his head in his hands, wincing at the gross feeling of his unwashed locks on his fingers as they brushed his hair. It had been so long since he had bathed, and while he missed the feeling of hot water on his skin, he could not bring himself to leave the lab to do just that (especially if it meant possibly encountering his family or Soos).

 

 _Pine Tree..._ Cipher didn’t like how the man’s thoughts were drifting away. He was growing impatient with the doctor’s increasing stubbornness. Why did he not just give in?

 

 Dipper glared at his hands, wishing Cipher were in front of him so that he could punch him in the face. Perhaps _that_ would get the mad man to shut up.

 

_You cannot ignore me forever, you know._

 

 _Yes, I can_ , Dipper wanted to scream. _Just leave me be!_

 

 Cipher chuckled as he read the doctor’s thoughts. Oh, how foolish he could be sometimes.

 

 _So na_ _ï_ _ve. You think simply telling me to go away will help? You think yelling and screaming and begging is going to make me less eager to bother you?_

 

 Dipper remained silent. He hoped the other didn’t take note of how he swallowed a lump forming in his throat.

 

 Cipher did notice, but he made no mention of it, merely chuckling again. _Of course not. You’re a smart man, Pine Tree, and you understand well enough that I will come and go as I please. I do not like to be stopped and told to go away. We are one and the same, and the sooner you accept this, the better off we shall be._

 

 “And the sooner,” Dipper growled, lifting his head up from his hands, “that you see I do not want anything to do with you, that we are _not_ the same person, the better off you will be. I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do. Now, GET OUT!”

 

 His voice rose to a yell on the last words, his face flushed red from anger and exasperation. Dipper ran a hand through his hair, waiting for a response. He knew Cipher was not gone just yet; he never disappeared without getting the final word or input.

 

_We shall see about that._

 

 The dull throbbing in his skull faded and Dipper took a deep breath before flopping down in a chair to calm down.

 

 He glanced over at the mess on the counter: the tray of uneaten food, the various beakers spread all over, the chemicals resting in a pile by one test tube. He knew he probably should go and clean up that disarray but he was just so sick of everything at the moment. What was the point? He would only mess it all up later when he went back to experimenting.

 

_At least I am getting closer now. I just need a few more chemicals, I think._

 

 Dipper thought over the original chemicals he had chosen for the first formula and wondered if any of those would help reverse the existence of Cipher. This made his heart fill with a brief hope and he promised himself that he would get some the first chance he had.

 

 A sharp knock on the door alerted Dipper to another visitor, causing him to jump up and hurry as quietly as possible to the lab door. He never opened the door, but he liked to listen and see who was coming to try and convince him to come out.

 

 “It’s me, Dipper.”

 

 Stan again. He relaxed slightly. His great-uncle was his most frequent visitor, coming every meal with Soos and sometimes alone just to try and talk with the younger male.

 

 “Look, I can see you’re being stubborn about this and won’t come out. I understand that this is important so...is there anything I can get you? Food? Supplies? Medicine? I just... I want to help you, and if I can’t get you to come out, I might as well be of _some_ use.”

 

 _Well, speak of the devil._ Dipper bit his lip, unsure whether he should trust his family with something like this. Was Stan really trying to help this time? His great-uncle had never shown any interest before...

 

 There was a depressed sigh and the sound of footsteps beginning to head away from the lab door. Desperation suddenly filled Dipper and he called out, “Wait! Please, could you... Could you grab me some chemicals for my research?”

 

 Stan stopped and there was a moment of silence before the doctor heard the elder man moving back to the lab door. “What do you need?”

 

 Relief filled Dipper and he smiled to himself happily. “Ask Soos, he has the list of chemicals I asked for once, about three weeks ago. I need as many as you can provide.”

 

 “I’ll do my best.”

 

 Dipper leaned his head against the door, the smile growing a little larger. “Grunkle Stan...?”

 

 There was a pause, and the doctor realized he had never called his great-uncle by that nickname Mabel had chosen before now.

 

 “Y-Yeah?”

 

 “I...Thank you,” Dipper whispered softly, his heart flying to his throat as he tried to find the words he was looking for to convey his feelings.

 

 Another brief silence.

 

 “You are most welcome, Dipper.”

 

* * *

 

 

 Mabel fingered the satin of the blue dress she was wearing, not feeling any of the usual enthusiasm she normally felt when she finished making a dress. Despite the fact that most of her dresses were made by fine tailors, she liked to sew on her own, trying to create outfits that were more her style. It had been about two months since she had sewn anything, though, and this dress was her last creation.

 

 Nowadays, she didn’t feel the need to sew or write down ideas for a new gown. She was growing bored of being alone, and no matter how many times Soos offered to keep her company, the hole forming in her heart wouldn’t heal.

 

 Why was Dipper still in that damn lab? Ever since he had sent out that letter to her, she had not seen him leave once, and she was beginning to wonder if he was desperate enough to _sleep_ in there. He had plenty of visits from her, Stan, and Soos, but he never responded. She knew in her heart that he heard and was probably _wanting_ to reply, and yet he remained stubborn and never answered.

 

 What was holding him back? Why was her younger twin so thick sometimes? Couldn’t he see that help from his family was the best way to cope with whatever it was he was dealing with?

 

 Apparently not.

 

 Mabel groaned and sat down on the edge of her bed, not caring that it had just been made. The ornate mirror sitting against the wall seemed to mock her as she stared at her reflection glumly.

 

 She had never felt so alone, and she did not like it. Even after their parents had gone mad, Dipper had always been there for her. He had defended her odd quirks from the upper-class guests at Stan’s first party since the incident, just as she always defended his line of work when they grew older.

 

 Why had things changed since then? It had only been weeks ago when they were close, but ever since that fight...

 

 She could not shake the memory of her brother’s brown eyes, the dark bags underneath visible and stark against his paling skin. The last time she had seen him, the fear in his eyes was almost palpable, worry flickering in the back of his irises. Why would he not tell her what was wrong? They had never kept secrets before now.

 

 That was how Mabel knew something awful must be happening if her own brother wouldn’t confide in the person she had thought he trusted most.

 

 She laid back on the soft sheets, tears tugging at her eyes the more she thought about this whole mess. Why were things so complicated now? Why was she feeling so alone and lost and bored? What was so important and terrible that Dipper had to hide from the world? Why was he so scared?

 

_Why?_

 

* * *

 

 

 With a sigh, the young doctor added another drop of sulfur to the test tube before corking the mixture, swirling the contents around vigorously. He was waiting on his great-uncle with those chemicals, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to gain _some_ headway into this quest before he returned.

 

 The man pinched his nose with one hand as the smell drifted to his nostrils, and he hurriedly set it down on its rightful stand, trying not to think of what happened the last time he left a test tube alone. He grabbed the nearest rag and began to scrub at a spot left on the counter from when he had spilled a bit of the mixture. Dipper gritted his teeth as he struggled to get it off, not worrying about if this was going to bleach the white rag or not.

 

 He ignored the dull throb in his skull, sure he was just being paranoid, and set down the rag once the infuriating spot was finally gone. He wiped his brow and winced when he felt his unwashed hair stick to his face through the sweat staining his skin. Yes, he definitely needed to bathe. After everyone was asleep, perhaps he would get that out of the way and feel more refreshed, ready to continue experimenting. Also maybe he’d change out of the same clothes he had been wearing since his birthday.

 

 The throbbing intensified and Dipper’s heart flew to his throat in a panic. _Oh, god._

 

 He staggered to a chair, his feet growing numb as the pain steadily grew worse like it always did. _Please, not now. I don’t need this right now._

 

 A dark laugh escaped Dipper’s lips (but it wouldn’t be _his_ lips for long, oh, no) and the man shuddered, nearly collapsing into the wooden seat as his head felt heavy. He gripped his head as the laughter echoed in his mind and in the lab.

 

 _I warned you about making me angry, Pine Tree._ Cipher relished in the terror rolling off the doctor in waves as he felt his spirit grow stronger. Oh, this was going to be entertaining. _Why won’t you just be good for our sakes?_

 

 “There...is...no us!” choked out Dipper as the pain grew agonizing. He shut his eyes tightly, praying Cipher would stay put for once.

 

 _FOOL!_ The man cried out as his limbs shook violently, losing any and all control he had over his body as darkness consumed his vision.

 

 Cipher breathed heavily, opening his eyes with a broad smirk and standing on shaky legs. He could sense the doctor going to sleep inside, and the thought of Pine Tree going peacefully made him want to laugh again. Oh, when was the man going to learn?

 

 Cipher stripped off his vest and put on his cloak and top hat, the smirk growing as he imagined exploring London again. Maybe he’d pay someone a surprise visit. Maybe he’d go revel in being alive as he had done the first night.

 

 The knock on the lab door made the mad man frown. Who was visiting Pine Tree at seven at night? Surely not his sister?

 

 “Dipper?” _Ah_ , it was the great-uncle. “I went out and got the chemicals you needed. Can I come in to give them to you?”

 

 As the man spoke, Cipher moved to the door and unlocked it, walking away with a wide smirk tugging at his lips. Pine Tree was going to have a cardiac arrest when he found out what he had done, but that would only be all the more amusing for him. _Let the games begin._

 

 “Come in...”

 

 Stan couldn’t believe his ears when he heard those words. Not only had he never heard those words spoken to him from this room, but it didn’t even sound like his great-nephew was the one saying them. Something uneasy lingered in his gut as he opened the door (why was it now unlocked?), shutting it behind him slowly.

 

 The lab appeared to be in a disarray, with some sort of formula bubbling in a test tube on the counter. Stan could smell a faint odor suspiciously of sweat, and he wondered when the last time the younger had showered was.

 

 A figure stood by the farthest end of the counter, his face obscured by a top hat, leaving only a smug smirk for him to see. The cloak looked suspiciously like one he owned, something he had used as a child to pretend he was off fighting monsters as a child. On this dark man though, it appeared sinister and malicious.

 

 “Who are you? Where is my great-nephew?”

 

 The figure chuckled darkly, fingering the brim of his top hat almost lovingly. Stan felt a chill race up his spine at the slightly high-pitched sound but he stood his ground.

 

 “Me? Oh, you can call me Mr. Bill Cipher! What a pleasure to finally meet you. As for the dear doctor...I am afraid he is _not_ _available_ tonight.”

 

 He didn’t like how sinister the man made those words sound. “I’m dropping these off for him,” he said, holding up the chemicals in jars in his arms before setting them down on the counter cautiously, never taking his eyes off of this stranger. “I’m not leaving until I know where he is.”

 

 Cipher laughed loudly and this time Stan tensed up, his hands moving to the swordstick inside his cane automatically. Something about the man seemed so familiar and yet not at all. He would have certainly recalled meeting such a malicious man.

 

 “Oh, aren’t you _hilarious_? I’m afraid I cannot do that, sadly.”

 

 “Why not?” Stan demanded, growing angry.

 

 Cipher grimaced mockingly, pretending to think his words over. “Well, you see... If I were to tell you, you would never believe me.”

 

 What the hell was he going on about? Where could Dipper have gone if no one had seen the man leave the estate?

 

 “Stop playing games with me,” growled the elder man, his grip tightening on the swordstick, which did not go unnoticed by Cipher. “Tell me where the hell my great-nephew is!”

 

 Cipher loved how angry the man was, worry for his family lingering not-so-discreetly in the shadows of his brown eyes. All of the people in this family were so foolish sometimes, it made him want to double over with laughter.

 

 “I don’t think he would like that,” Cipher told Stan honestly, smirking wider at the confusion he saw in the other’s expression.

 

 What was up with this man? The glint in his eyes reminded Stan eerily of a mad man, delighting in watching others beg at his feet. The thought made his heart harden and he withdrew the sword from inside the cane, glaring viciously at the shadowed man.

 

 “Listen here, you. Tell me what you’ve done with Dipper or I’ll be forced to use this!”

 

 Cipher burst out laughing at the man’s anger, wiping pretend tears away from his eyes. Oh, that gave him an awful idea. Pine Tree was sure to hate him after this, but he just couldn’t resist.

 

 “Have it your way, Stanford!” he roared with laughter, releasing his hold on Pine Tree’s body, collapsing to the ground as he felt his spirit leaving...for now.

 

 Stan stepped back in astonishment but quickly regained his composure when the figure twitched and began to move on the floor. There was no doubt in his mind that this stranger was a mad man. He had no way to predict what would happen if he let his guard now.

 

 Dipper groaned softly as he removed the top hat from his head, his memories slowly returning, but not quick enough. He sat up, rubbing his temples and practically tearing the cloak off of his body. Why on earth Cipher favored the infernal thing, he had no clue.

 

 A sharp gasp and the sound of metal falling to the floor caught his attention right when he remembered he was not alone.

 

_Oh, FUCK._

 

 Stan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the figure take off the hat. It looked like his great-nephew with the messy brown hair, but there was no way it could be. Nevertheless, his hands trembled on the swordstick as he watched the man throw off the cloak, not seeming to notice him.

 

 That was when he caught a glimpse of the face and he dropped the swordstick with a loud gasp. No. _No._

 

 Dipper met Stan’s eyes warily, his heart hammering in his throat at the fright he saw in his great-uncle’s eyes. He could see the disbelief clearly, the shock and denial processing slowly in his expression. There was no way out of this one. Cipher had deliberately backed the young man into a corner, and he could almost imagine the mad man cackling in glee at this silent display.

 

 Never in a million years did Stanford Pines think he would find his great-nephew after being told by the latter (who apparently had an alternate personality with a different name) that he was trying to fix a terrible mistake.

 

 Never ever did he think that he would get to encounter that “mistake” for himself.

 

 “Have you gone mad?” The words left his lips before he could stop them, and he wished he could take them back when he saw Dipper flinch, staggering to his feet. Neither took their eyes off of each other, as if unable to believe what they were seeing.

 

 Dipper ran a hand through his hair, not registering until later on that he was trembling. “I...No. I am sane.”

 

 Stan swore under his breath, unsure what the hell was going on. Was Dipper going mad like his parents and he just didn’t know it? He imagined bringing the doctor to an asylum, imagining Mabel’s heartbroken face when he told her what had become of her twin brother...

 

 “What the hell is going on, Dipper? What...Why did you refer to yourself as Bill Cipher?”

 

 _The truth comes out in funny ways sometimes_ , his mother had once told him sternly after he had gotten caught lying about taking Mabel’s favorite doll. Oh, if she could only see her son now. What would she say?

 

 “Grunkle Stan...” Dipper swallowed down his terror and forced himself to maintain eye contact with his great-uncle. “On the night of my birthday, I made a mistake. I was a fool, I thought I could test my formula on myself...I thought it was ready. Instead, it created Bill Cipher, who is the evil aspect inside of me. He takes over my body and I have no control over his will. He is a mad man who would not think twice about hurting people because he thinks...he thinks pain is hilarious. I have been keeping him cooped up in here to protect you all, hoping he would not get out, and I am trying to reverse the effects with the new formula I am creating now.”

 

 As the words spilled out of his mouth, Dipper felt something lurch in his gut. Stan probably thought he was certifiably mad and ignorant now for testing that damn formula on himself. Honestly, the young man didn’t blame him; he thought he was an absolute moron who was too selfish to realize he had been too obsessed with his goals for the future that he could not tell when he was making an awful mistake.

 

 Stan didn’t know what to say. What was he supposed to say to something like that? ‘ _Oh, it will okay. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine, Dipper._ ’?

 

 He should have expected Dipper would go against the Board of Governors’ will, truthfully. The man had never liked to listen to his colleagues’ opinions, always arguing against their beliefs that he had lost his mind and was plotting something satanic. Not that Stan agreed with them, obviously. He had thought that once that discussion’s tension died down, Dipper would eventually lose interest in his work and maybe spend more time thinking about his sister and how she always seemed disappointed not to find him at parties anymore.

 

 The defeat in Dipper’s eyes crushed his heart. The doctor knew he had been caught in the act (literally) and he knew that there was no way to tell how his great-uncle would react to this news. Stan watched as the man eventually turned away, looking at the hat and cloak on the lab floor with an unreadable expression.

 

 He didn’t think his great-nephew was mad. He knew most would disagree and argue heavily against this belief, but he knew in his heart that Dipper was fighting back, trying to control this Cipher character inside. Cipher was the real evil, the mad man.

 

 He recalled hearing the news of the first murder in London suddenly, recalling how Dipper had been there for only moments prior and turned as white as a sheet, the horror on his face blatant. He looked harder at his relative, not wanting to believe that he could have had something to do with that.

 

_“...He is a mad man who would not think twice about hurting people because he thinks...he thinks pain is hilarious...”_

 

 Stan sucked in a shaky breath, moving towards his great-nephew with caution, thinking over his next words carefully.

 

 “Did he...Did he have something to do with those three murders, Dipper?”

 

 The man’s head shot up, his expression reminding Stan of a small child finding out he had been caught stealing sweets. Stan’s heart sank as tears watered up in the doctor’s eyes before he shut them and rubbed at his face vigorously.

 

 _He knew. God, Stan knew now._ Dipper felt his shoulders slump as any and all bravado he had been trying to exude vanished in one second. He felt like a small child all over again, having to move with his sister to their great-uncle’s estate because _their parents weren’t coming home, a madness had taken hold of them, they weren’t safe to be around –_

 

 “I’m sorry.”

 

 All of Dipper’s thoughts went blank and he froze, unsure if he was going deaf or he had actually heard the man correctly.

 

 “S-Sorry? Why...? Why are you sorry?”

 

 Stan sighed to himself, resting a hand gently on his great-nephew’s shoulder (he tried to pretend he had not seen the younger man wince at the unexpected action). “Dipper, you probably wouldn’t have gone ahead and tested that formula if the Board had not denied your request and if we had not fought. You were just doing what you thought was right, but if someone had been able to help you...maybe things would have gone differently.”

 

 “Wh-What are you saying?”

 

 The elder man paused, staring at Dipper’s perplexed face. “I’m trying to say that if I had been more supportive and possibly helped, this might not have happened. So... I am sorry.”

 

 Dipper’s mouth flapped open and shut as the doctor processed his relative’s words. Was he really hearing these words coming from Stan’s mouth? Or was he hallucinating?

 

 Stan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his gaze swinging to the disarray of supplies and chemicals on the lab counter. It looked like the doctor had been hard at work right before Cipher had taken over his body.

 

 “You don’t have to apologize, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said quietly once he snapped out of his daze. His great-uncle’s head swiveled back at the sound of Mabel’s familiar term being used. Dipper nearly smiled, not disliking the word quite as much as he used to. It felt more natural and...It sounded more like the name you would give somebody in your family.

 

 “This whole mess is my fault and mine alone. I am grateful that you would feel the need to apologize, but I have already accepted my mistake and now I have to fix this before something worse than those murders happens.”

 

 Stan raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose you mean to do it alone?”

 

 Dipper recognized the determination in his great-uncle’s brown eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Yes, I do. I have to do this without anyone here for Cipher to taunt or torture or whatever it is he is plotting to do next. I think he means to hurt someone else, and I do not want that person to be anyone I care about. That’s why I need you to stay away.”

 

 “You expect me to keep this from your sister?” Stan couldn’t believe his ears. “Dipper, she has to know. This isn’t something you can hide forever.”

 

 “I know!” Dipper flinched as Stan took a step back in surprise at the outburst. “I-I know. But she _can’t_ know, for now. She will want to help and...Grunkle Stan, if Cipher ever hurt her, I don’t know what I would do with myself.”

 

 Stan felt a dull ache in his heart as he heard the man’s voice crack in fright, the fear prominent in his expression. The doctor was so scared of losing someone else to Cipher that he’d go through hell to make sure he destroyed this demon: the elder man could see it in his eyes.

 

_You stubborn arse._

 

 “Alright, I won’t tell. But if something worse happens, you have to get help, Dipper.” Stan gave him a pointed look. “I won’t let you go through this completely isolated. That will be just what Cipher wants.”

 

 “I promise,” Dipper mumbled, his face heating up a bit in embarrassment.

 

 Stan smiled slightly and patted his great-nephew on the shoulder gently. “I’m not going to leave you to suffer, Dipper. Nobody could be _that_ cruel.”

 

 _You haven’t truly met Cipher, then._ Dipper swallowed hard and thought over what he wanted to say carefully, knowing his great-uncle would dislike what he was about to be told.

 

 “Grunkle Stan... If this new formula fails, if I cannot destroy Cipher as I believe I can...” He glanced at Stan’s face, trying not to feel guilty at the confusion he soon knew would be replaced by horror. “If that happens, I need you to kill me, thus killing Cipher as well and–”

 

 “No.”

 

 Dipper’s throat constricted as he tried not to look annoyed. “Please, this isn’t a matter for discussion. You must–”

 

 “Never.”

 

 “ _Please_ , just listen–”

 

 “Dipper, _stop_.” Stan’s voice was cold and hard, his eyes like ice.

 

 The short silence was filled with the doctor’s heavy breathing and the faint bubbling from the mixture in the test tube on the counter. Dipper could feel his heart slowly sinking in despair the longer he gazed upon his great-uncle’s face.

 

 “You can’t make me do something like that. I will not let it come to that.”

 

 “What if we have no choice?” Dipper tried to reason with the man. “What if Cipher takes control of me fully, and he tries to hurt Mabel?”

 

 “I WON’T KILL YOU!” Stan snapped, his voice wavering as a hint of fear flashed in his eyes. “I am not going to harm my own flesh and blood because you are afraid Cipher will possess you forever.”

 

 Dipper groaned, his chest tightening at the idea of being trapped as Cipher for the end of his days. “Cipher _must_ be destroyed, Grunkle Stan, no matter _what_ the cost!”

 

 “There must be some other way. I will not do this, Dipper, you cannot make me–”

 

 “YOU _HAVE_ TO!” Dipper shouted, stepping forward so that he was up in his great-uncle’s face. A sudden desperation and fury filled his soul, body trembling as terrible memories of the things Cipher had done so far flew through his head. “You think I _want_ this?! I don’t want to die, but if it means keeping Mabel and you and Soos and everyone I care about or could possibly hurt safe, then _so_ _be_ _it_! No more innocents will shed blood because of some mad man taking control of my hands!”

 

 He breathed heavily, struggling to regain his composure as Stan stared down at him, something akin to pity and sorrow flickering in his eyes. Dipper could feel his heart hammering against his chest, the panic he sensed inside threatening to consume him.

 

 Stan _had_ to do this. If he lost control entirely, Dipper didn’t want to be responsible for the deaths of his loved ones. Cipher had already killed three and now was hurting and scaring Wendy. He could not afford to hurt anyone else.

 

 Stan placed both hands on the doctor’s shoulders, seeing these thoughts whirling about plain as day on his face. Again, his heart ached for his great-nephew, and he wondered how things would have turned out if he had been there to persuade Dipper not to take that damn formula in the first place.

 

 “I will find another way to subdue him. I promised your parents that I would protect you and keep you safe, and if killing you is the only way left, I will do no such thing. I promise you, Dipper, that _I will find another way_. In the meantime, you need to work and try to reverse this. I will leave you be for now, but no more locking that door, alright?”

 

 Dipper hesitated, but he nodded upon seeing the stern look in his great-uncle’s eyes. As Stan turned away, he fished out an envelope from inside his vest strewn across the floor and hurried over to the man, pressing it into his hands. When Stan gave him a baffled look, Dipper explained, “Give this to a red-haired woman in _The Red Rat_. Tell her I told her to escape London and head far off to the countryside where she will be safe from all of this. She will know what to do.”

 

 Stan didn’t entirely understand why his great-nephew had been visiting brothels as of late, but he decided to ignore this fact when he saw the pleading look in Dipper’s eyes. “I will do so immediately. I left the chemicals on the counter, the ones you told me to get.”

 

 Dipper glanced at the jars sitting there and nodded. “Th-Thank you.”

 

 Stan nodded, picking his swordstick up off the ground and giving the doctor a faint smile. “Oh, and Dipper? Please, if you have time, bathe yourself well. You smell like a barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan knows the truth now. But is this a good thing...? 
> 
> (I know this song is technically one of the first ones in the musical, but I'm using the version from the third reprise to title this chapter. Just in case anyone was wondering why I used Façade.)


	10. Sympathy, Tenderness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter but it's important. WARNING: if you are squicky about blood and knives and...um, death...please skip this chapter. Bill goes a bit too far with the whole threatening thing...

 Wendy loathed being treated like scum, no matter how many times she put on a brave face and acted as if the insults and sneers did not hurt her. She put up the iron walls around her heart because she knew how cruel the world could be to women who tried to make their own living by their own means. That didn’t mean it kept out any of the ill-meant jeers sent her way when she walked down the street each day, preventing her from feeling any sort of pain at the accusations.

 

 She flinched internally when she heard a man hiss an ugly name under his breath as she walked by, hurrying into _The Red Rat_ with a heavy heart and her head held high. London was a poor place for someone of her occupation, no matter how well it paid (the money richer folk carried on them was astounding sometimes).

 

 Susan saw the look on the ginger’s face when she walked in and led her quickly away from prying eyes. “Just ignore the pricks,” she muttered to Wendy softly, glaring at one man who stared at the duo with hungry eyes. “They’re all ignorant fools.”

 

 Wendy nodded, ashamed of being as sensitive to the jeers as of late. Ever since Cipher had returned, though... She shook herself, trying not to appear paranoid as she glanced over her shoulder, goosebumps prickling across her arms. She was being silly. He wasn’t going to come after her unless she visited Dipper, which she had been true to her word about (as awful as she felt about not telling him).

 

 She headed into the back room to get ready for her next performance as Susan went to speak with some of the more restless customers. She shed her day dress for a tighter (and much shorter) scarlet dress, hoisting it up so that it covered her breasts better. The prostitute strapped on matching coloured heels that made her look about two inches taller than she already was, wincing at how tight they were over her rather small feet.

 

 Wendy rubbed her pale arms as she felt a chill rush into the room. Susan must have left the door to the brothel open again. Despite it being summer still, the nights were getting rather cold. She almost wished it was warmer and more humid so that she did not have to deal with the chilly breezes from time to time.

 

 Twirling her red locks around in her hands, Wendy pondered wearing her hair up for the night. Every time she did so though, Susan told her she was better off with her hair down and the customers always ended up tearing out the pins in an effort to run their hands through it (which was highly irritating and made her want to throttle them). But it was so messy today. Maybe just one night would be alright.

 

 “Wendy?”

 

 She jumped at the sound of Susan’s voice and turned to see the elder woman and an elderly man standing at the doorway. She had never seen this man before in the brothel, and he looked out of place in his suit, shifting awkwardly as Susan eyed him with something suspiciously like longing.

 

 “See? There she is. Oh, this fine gentleman wanted to give you something, Wendy. He won’t be long, so be sure to make it to your performance, please!”

 

 Susan left, but not without another glance at the stranger, who switched his gaze to Wendy. Wendy felt her heart pound in her chest, trying not to imagine what had happened the last time Susan had brought her an unexpected visitor.

 

 “Before you ask, I am not here for your...um, entertainment.” The man’s voice was gravelly and the hard look in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’m here because my great-nephew wanted to give you this.”

 

 He withdrew an envelope from inside his vest, handing it to her. The prostitute eyed it warily before opening it. Her eyes immediately bulged at the sight of a short letter written in familiar handwriting...and a couple hundred pounds.

 

 “Dipper is your great-nephew?” she found herself asking in a small shaky voice, clutching the envelope with a new strength in her bones.

 

 The man nodded, seeming confused by her reaction. She guessed that he did not see what was inside the envelope. “He told me to tell you to use that and escape to the countryside so you could get away from the city. With all of these murders...I guess he doesn’t want you to get hurt too.”

 

 Her heart flew to her throat as she stared at the letter, reading the one sentence to herself mentally over and over again. _I’m sorry, but you need this more than I ever will._

 

 How could one man be so selfless for a woman he barely knew?

 

 “T-Tell him I said ‘thank you’.”

 

 The man nodded and turned to leave. Wendy stared back down at the money, feeling unsure what to do with it for the first time in her life. Escape? She could leave London and start a new life?

 

 “Oh, and by the way,” Wendy looked up to see the older gentleman watching her from the doorway, “Dipper hasn’t ever done these sorts of things for a woman before, so I assume you’re special to him. If so...please use that well, because it is unlikely that he will ever do such a thing again.”

 

 She nodded numbly and then the stranger finally left her sight.

 

 Wendy turned her back to the door and fingered the money inside the envelope. Where could she go? What could she do now that she had enough money to go wherever she desired, far past London or maybe even England?

 

 She could visit her father and her brothers. She could start a new normal life in the country. She could buy a house in a forest, surrounded by the tallest trees imaginable.

 

 It was as if anything had become possible in only a manner of moments for Wendy Corduroy. One small envelope changed her perspective and now she felt... _free_.

 

 Before she could move or do anything, a pair of warm arms wrapped around her waist, making the woman cry out in surprise and freeze in place. The only person who had ever done something like this was Lord Robert... But he had been murdered. So who was - ?

 

 “Well, well. Look at this! Getting all dolled up, _aren’t we_ , Red?”

 

 Wendy’s heart caught in her throat as it began hammering wildly, her euphoria vanishing in seconds. _No. No, no, no. Why is he back? Why is he here?_

 

 “Did you miss me?” crooned Cipher, smiling deviously at her as he rested his chin on her bare shoulder. He delighted in the small shiver that she gave at the touch, enjoying the fear he could see in her tense form.

 

 “Why a-are you here?”

 

 He almost chuckled at the inquiry; the whore sounded so scared, no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. “Why, to see _you_ , obviously! I grow bored easily, you see, and I wanted some company.”

 

 Wendy tried not to shiver again at the way he said this. “I-I have to get to my performance in a few minutes–”

 

 Cipher barked with laughter, startling her as he tightened his hold on her waist. “Oh, how precious! No, not that sort of company, my dear. I just meant having a little chat, that’s all there is to it.”

 

 She swallowed hard, his words doing nothing to reassure her. The last time that the two had “chatted”, he had nearly killed her.

 

 Cipher traced a hand down her side, making her jump again (oh, how he loved her reactions when she was frightened). “This is a nice colour on you, Red. You know what it reminds me of?”

 

 Realizing he wanted a reply after a moment of silence, she shut her eyes and mumbled, “I don’t know.”

 

 “ _Blood_. So bright. What a lovely colour.”

 

 He was a mad man. God, what had Wendy ever done to deserve his attention?

 

 Cipher’s eyes darted to the familiar envelope in her tightly clenched fists and his expression darkened for a second before he plastered a smile on his face. “What might that be? A letter from a mutual friend of ours, perhaps?”

 

 Wendy’s chest tightened and she tried to hide the way she stiffened at his words (and ultimately failed). “M-Maybe.”

 

_Oh, Pine Tree. You really should not have done that._

 

 “You know, Red, the doctor and I are very... _close_ , I suppose you might say. We share _everything_.”

 

 “O-Oh?” She swallowed hard as he shifted behind her, removing the envelope from her grasp and setting it on the table beside them.

 

 Cipher moved his hands so that she was more comfortable and gently stroked her side with one hand, smiling viciously at how she fought between tensing and forcing herself to relax at his actions. Oh, how he would miss her adorably scared reactions.

 

 Making certain she was not looking, the mad man withdrew a knife from inside of his cloak, hefting it up with one hand as he held the red-haired woman against his chest with his other hand. Cipher’s eyes narrowed as he recalled every lovely thought Pine Tree had of the prostitute, memories that distracted him from what he could have been doing with _him_ together.

 

 Pine Tree just had to be punished, especially if this _woman_ was getting in the way all the time.

 

 Cipher drove the knife into Wendy’s back several times with ferocity, ignoring the first few gasps of pain and surprise. The blood from the blade dripped onto his hands, but he didn’t care. He stabbed her in the chest once before slitting her throat for good measure, letting the body collapse to the ground after a minute. As her heartbeat stopped, Wendy caught one last glimpse of the man, finally seeing his face, and couldn’t help but wonder if she was hallucinating seeing Dipper Pines smiling evilly down at her.

 

 “What a mess,” cooed Cipher, unbelievably gleeful after killing the woman. He snatched the envelope up off the table and tossed it into the fireplace, watching it burn the contents. No one would ever know what was in that gift from Pine Tree to Red now.

 

 “This was for your own good, Pine Tree,” whispered the mad man, hiding the bloody knife and cackling as he left the brothel.

 

 When Susan found Wendy’s body ten minutes later, her scream could have been heard all the way to the outskirts of the city. And somewhere out there, Bill Cipher was cackling in glee at his handiwork still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I am so sorry.


	11. Confrontation

_Murderer._

 

 Dipper would not move from the chair in his lab, staring at the floor numbly, staring at the blood on his trembling hands. He couldn’t recall the last time he had eaten or drank anything, his throat hoarse and dry from sobbing late that previous night. His head was throbbing ferociously, but he knew Cipher wouldn’t dare try to possess him, not right now. He had been ignoring that evil aspect ever since he had regained memory of what he had done – no, what _Cipher_ had done. His stomach lurched at the memory as it sprung anew from the depths of his mind.

 

_Killer._

 

 Dipper had showered yesterday before Cipher had taken control the second time, but now he felt filthier than ever, if possible. His hands were rubbed raw and red still from the blood lingering upon them even after he had tried to wash away the liquid, _her blood on his hands_.

 

_Butcher._

 

 God, he had – no, it was _Cipher_ , _he_ had done nothing wrong – really fucked up this time. How could he have done something like this? Cipher had gone too far this time, killed one person too many. The doctor understood his reasons for murdering the Board, despite how brutally he had gone through doing so, but now...with Wendy...

 

_Slaughterer._

 

 Dipper was going to be sick.

 

 He choked on a sob, nearly going to bury his face in his hands before he remembered what was on them. This made him cry out quietly, hoping Stan would not chose now to walk in and find him like this.

 

  _Monster._

 

 The young man had not really truly cried since he had found out his parents were going to an asylum, had lost their minds, abandoning him and Mabel. But now, after being _used_ to do such awful things like murdering innocent people...he couldn’t help it. He broke down, sobbing as softly as he could so as not to wake anyone. It was still only the wee hours of dawn, and no one would be awake to see him like this; but he didn’t want Soos, or Stan, or ( _god forbid_ ) Mabel to awaken because of his bawling.

 

 _What a mess you’re making of yourself, Pine Tree._ Dipper tensed, not giving the voice in his throbbing head the satisfaction of a response. Not now. He didn’t deserve one.

 

_I’m hurt! You’re going to ignore me now? Pine Tree, how could you?_

 

 The teasing tone only aggravated him further. How could Cipher joke about something at a time like this? After doing something as terrible as murder? Had the mad man no heart or compassion?

 

 _You know, I can read your thoughts._ Cipher reminded him, slightly irritated by the lack of a response. He had thought after Pine Tree’s punishment, the doctor would be more conceding and give in to the idea of working together. Instead, it had only made him more vulnerable and distraught, which was not at all what he had desired. Did that woman really matter so much to him? Red wasn’t _that_ wonderful.

 

 Dipper honestly did not care less. He just wanted everything to be alright again, to be in control of his own actions for once, to actually spend time with his family again without being terrified of killing them. Was that too much to ask? How did he have such terrible luck? Why _him_?

 

 Cipher would have rolled his eyes if he was in control. _A little dramatic there, aren’t we, Pine Tree? This isn’t the end of the world. So Red is dead. Who cares?_

 

 His chest tightened, but not out of sorrow this time. No, that was the final straw.

 

 “ _I_ CARE, YOU _ARSE_!” Dipper stood up, ignoring the shaking of his blood-stained hands. “Stop pretending you are helping me and _think_ about what you’ve done for a moment, goddammit! She had a life, she was innocent, and she didn’t deserve to be stabbed to death in a filthy brothel because _you_ had some sort of vengeance against her!”

 

 Cipher chuckled tersely at the angry words, causing the doctor to clench his fists in fury. _Pine Tree, you don’t think I thought this through? She was a_ whore. _No one would pay much attention to her after a couple of weeks, probably forgetting all about her by then!_

 

 “That isn’t true!”

 

_No one is innocent. She knew more than she should have about you anyway. There was no chance of her lasting a week without blowing your cover._

 

 “ _Shut_ _it_ , you!”

 

 _As for her untimely death,_ Cipher hissed, all pretense of being uncaring gone in a split-second, _she deserved what she got. She was a distraction, taking up your thoughts more than she should have. You were ignoring me, focusing on her and your desire to ‘destroy me’._

 

 “Damn you, Cipher! Leave me be!”

 

 _You should have focused on my offer, and perhaps I wouldn’t have gotten so_ angry _, hmm? This is your punishment, Pine Tree. This is_ your _fault._

 

 “Don’t try and pin this one on me!” Dipper was trembling all over now, glaring at the wall as the words echoed throughout his head. “We are not the same person. Wendy had nothing to do with any of this and you _murdered her_!”

 

 _YOU ARE ME, DON’T YOU SEE?_ The sudden yell inside his head made the man stumble, a whimper escaping his lips as memories of the previous night crept into the back of his mind.

 

 “No, never!”

 

_Yes, forever!_

 

 “ _Goddamn_ _you_ , Cipher! Take your evil deeds and rot in _hell_!”screamed the doctor, tears running down his cheeks.

 

_I’ll see you there, PINES!_

 

 The cold laughter of the killer echoed in his head, causing Dipper to grip the sides of his skull, forgetting about the blood for a minute. The throbbing faded away slowly, leaving him alone in the lab, shaking violently.

 

 He tore his hands away from his head, trying not to think about the blood that was probably still in his curls. He simply stared at his palms, sniffing as he remembered Wendy’s green eyes. Remembering how the light had been drained from them with each stab and the slitting of her throat.

 

 _Am I a good man?_ Dipper wondered, lifting up one of his hands to the light hesitantly. _Am I a...mad man?_

 

 God, what was he going to _do_? What was he supposed to tell his great-uncle after this awful incident?

 

 By morning, everyone in London would surely know of the death of yet another helpless innocent. Despite the gradual fading interest in the earlier murders, this new one would definitely light the spark of fear anew. Stan would hear of it and find him, expecting an explanation, praying it was not so, but there would be nothing to tell.

 

 What could he possibly say now to convince Stan that he had this under control? There was nothing he could do to protect his family and friends now; if Cipher knew that getting to the people he cared about was an excellent way to break him, then everyone in the estate was in grave peril.

 

 Dipper was helpless to stop the other any longer. If he couldn’t stop Cipher from murdering Wendy, how could he possibly stop him from doing the same thing to Mabel or Stan?

 

 _Slaughterer. Butcher. Killer._ Dipper whimpered again, collapsing with his back against the counter, resting his head onto the tops of his knees as he sobbed softly. He was so alone, and he could do nothing anymore.

 

_Murderer._

 

  **Monster.**

 

* * *

 

 

 Stan had expected to see a bit more of Dipper now that he broken through the walls of the younger man’s heart, maybe even get him to interact with Mabel or Soos again.

 

 Yet when the late afternoon rolled around the day after he had learned the truth, there had been no sign of the doctor. Dipper had never left the lab, according to Soos, who had dropped off his breakfast and lunch as usual. The butler told the older gentleman quietly that he had heard an eerie quiet from the lab, not a single sound uttered when he announced the arrival of his food.

 

 It all made the hairs on Stan’s arms stand up, a sense of unease and dread spreading through his bones the longer he contemplated this. Had he scared the younger away completely by discovering his secret? Or was he breaking his promise and trying to remain hidden away for as long as possible until someone dragged him out of the lab?

 

 By the time dinner rolled around, he noticed Mabel’s mood had gone somber, picking at her vegetables when she usually played with them or tried to make different shapes in her potatoes. Stan thought back to how protective his great-nephew had been of her, trying to plead with Stan not to reveal his mistake to Mabel. Of all the people in the estate, however, Dipper’s sister would probably be the best person to call out him out and convince the young man that he did not need to hide.

 

 So why hadn’t he done so?

 

 _Because Cipher is a mad man_ , hissed a voice in the back of his mind as he too picked at his carrots. _Because you know he would not hesitate to murder a few more people, no matter how hard Dipper tries to retrain him._

 

 He recalled the letter the man had sent him, begging him not to send the twins away to Soos’s grandmother’s house. Was this why he had said those things? Was he afraid of hurting Soos and his relatives too?

 

 Damn that man’s stubborn heart. He probably got it from Stan.

 

 “Grunkle Stan?”

 

 Stan’s head shot up in surprise at the sound of his name, but his heart sank when he saw Mabel’s tired eyes. It reminded him far too much of her brother and how hard he was working to destroy the other personality inside his body.

 

 “Yes? Is everything okay?”

 

 She shifted in her chair, setting down her fork with a sigh of resignation that made the old gentleman’s heart ache in sympathy. “It’s just... Have you talked to Dipper lately?”

 

 Something in his gut flared in warning. Stan looked away, suddenly finding the tablecloth much more intriguing than his great-niece’s eyes.

 

 “I spoke with him yesterday. The conversation was rather brief, though. Why?”

 

 Mabel sighed again, gnawing on her lower lip for a moment. Stan glanced over at her and wished he had not; there was a sheer layer of tears in her eyes.

 

 “Because the last time we spoke was almost a week ago, if you don’t count the letter he sent me.”

 

 _This_ piqued his interest. “He sent you a letter?”

 

 “Yes, mainly telling me he was sorry and had to do something important. I don’t know what it was, but he sounded very upset...almost _scared_. Grunkle Stan, do you know what he was talking about?”

 

 This was the question he had prayed she would not ask. It was Stan’s turn to sigh now, finally meeting her eyes.

 

 “Not really, Mabel. I know it has to do with his work, but it seems more important than whatever he was working on before. The last time we talked...he told me to keep you safe. Whatever this is... Mabel, he just wants us to be safe. You know that, right?”

 

 She remained quiet for a bit, staring down at her plate with an unreadable expression. Stan hated lying to her, but he did not want to betray Dipper’s trust either. If the doctor wanted to wait before explaining the truth to his sister, he would have to respect that choice.

 

 Besides, how would she react if she knew the truth anyway? Stan knew Mabel was one of the most optimistic and encouraging people to not give up on what they believed they could accomplish (one of the many things he himself admired and wished he felt inside). But if she knew that her twin had accidentally unleashed a terrible evil from inside of him, would she accept it? Would she try and help him? Or would she be frightened and live in fear like Dipper now was?

 

 The latter made his heart ache and he forced himself to shove that aside. No, Mabel would never be that cruel. She liked to be honest and open with people, always respecting their choices. Why would she shun her own brother?

 

 “He didn’t say what was wrong?” Mabel’s soft voice brought Stan out of his musings. The man eyed her for a second before contemplating how to reply.

 

 “It has to do with his work–”

 

 “You said that before.”

 

 “–and he made some sort of drastic... _mistake_. Something to do with this formula I think he was creating. Whatever it was, it sounded bad and he...he looked scared.”

 

 He wished he didn’t have to say these sorts of things to Mabel. No one should have to lie to their family and tell them that things were heading for the worst.

 

 “You saw him?”

 

 And just like that, his heart sank like a stone. _Shit._

 

 “I...” Stan glanced at Mabel and saw the shock on her face, her eyes struggling to mask the hurt in them. “Yes. I managed to get him to open the door because I was bringing him supplies. It was a miracle I even got him to maintain conversation, though, Mabel. I don’t think–”

 

 “If I helped, do you think he would talk to me?”

 

 Stan swallowed a lump, feeling guilt fester inside his heart. The hope in her brown eyes made him feel terrible for mentioning seeing Dipper. There was no way the doctor would allow his sister to help after expressing to his great-uncle how terrified he was for her safety. How could he possibly tell her that?

 

 “I don’t know. I really don’t think you should get your hopes up, to be honest, Mabel.”

 

 She eyed her food for another moment before pushing back from the table and standing. “I’m going to go ask him if he needs anything.”

 

 “Mabel–” _Oh, dammit. Now you’ve really done it, Stanford._

 

 She didn’t listen, hurrying out of the room. Stan growled in annoyance, shoving back from the dining table and rushing after her. He tried not to think about what might happen if she received no response from her brother. Oh, that would not end well.

 

 He grabbed her arm before she rounded the corner of the corridor, wincing at the angry look his great-niece gave him. “Let go! I need to try!”

 

 “Mabel, please, listen to me–”

 

 “I just want to talk to him!”

 

 “I know!”

 

 “Then why won’t you _let_ _me_? I need to see if he’s really alright!”

 

 “BECAUSE HE’S TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!” Stan regretted the outburst at the sight of Mabel’s surprise, the young woman recoiling at the intensity of his voice.

 

 He lowered the volume considerably, the aching in his heart multiplying as his words sunk into Mabel’s heart like knives. “Mabel, he told me that he’s hiding to protect you, to protect all of us. Soos, you, me... He thinks helping is going to only harm us more, and while I don’t agree...we have to respect his wishes. He promised that he would explain once he gets out, that he would end this whole mess. Can you wait that long?”

 

 She slumped her shoulders, defeat in her eyes. “I just... I just _miss him,_ Grunkle Stan.”

 

 Stan shut his eyes tightly. He hoped she didn’t see how choked up he was becoming just by watching her heart sink. “Me too, Mabel. Me too.”

 

 A sob escaped Mabel as she crumpled against his broad chest, clinging to his suit as he wrapped his arms around her carefully. Each tear that hit the black fabric caused another metaphorical sword to plunge into his supposedly empty heart.

 

_Dipper, I hope you know what you’re doing._

 

* * *

 

 

 Dipper had no idea what he was doing any longer.

 

 He groaned in frustration, collapsing onto the floor against the counter of the lab for the sixth time that day. The formula was so close to being done, so close to hopefully solving all of his issues – and yet it was also so far from being complete. It was as if he were missing some chemicals, but he didn’t know what ones.

 

 “What am I going to do?” he whispered, staring down at his hands (which were now thankfully ridden of the blood that had stained them earlier).

 

 He hesitated, almost imagining a headache about to come on, but nothing happened. _Good._

 

 Dipper really didn’t need another unpleasant visit with Cipher. He was past loathing with that other personality, and after how quickly he had snapped during their last confrontation, Dipper didn’t want to find out how badly he would react this time.

 

 Sighing to himself, the young man glanced at the top hat lying on the ground by the chair from across the lab. He glared at it, as if it were the embodiment of evil itself, before realizing he was being a bit ridiculous.

 

 Perhaps he truly _was_ going mad.

 

 He could have sworn he heard a cackle of glee at this thought, nearly falling on his face as he scrambled to his feet. He looked all around the lab before remembering Cipher was in his head and ran a hand through his hair uneasily.

 

 Yes, he was definitely losing his sanity the longer he dealt with this bloodthirsty maniac.

 

 Dipper needed a miracle, at this rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter almost as much as the Stan/Dipper confrontation one. Mostly because the song Confrontation is GORGEOUS but also because imagining Bill and Dipper singing the respective roles is so much fun.
> 
> Also, yes. Dipper, you really will need a miracle, poor child.


	12. Once Upon a Dream

 Dipper received a note outside his lab door two days later, when he was peeking out to see if anyone was awake at four in the morning before he snuck off to bathe himself (he had grown surprisingly dirty in a short amount of time). It was on the floor, halfway underneath the door, with only a few sentences on it in curly calligraphy that was painstakingly familiar.

 

_There is going to be another party on Thursday. My friend Grenda is hosting it, and she is expecting the whole family there. Will you be well enough to come, Dipper?_

 

_Love, Mabel_

 

 He found himself fighting back a breakdown at the sight of Mabel’s mere signature, something he had seen a thousand times over, and hurriedly stashed it into his vest before rushing off to bathe. It was all he thought about as he scrubbed the sweat and dirt off his flesh, the words swimming before his brown eyes, almost taunting.

 

_Will you be well enough to come?_

 

 How was he supposed to answer something like that? Thursday was only three days away, too. God, how would he explain this to his sister? _“Sorry, Mabel, but the evil aspects of my soul might attempt murder so I cannot attend your friend’s celebration.”_ Yes, that would certainly go over nicely.

 

 Stan obviously had not told her about Cipher, for which he was relieved, but he knew there was no way he could keep this up any longer. It was growing taxing for Dipper to hide the secret, and now that someone else knew...how would Stan be able to lie his way out of this one if Mabel asked?

 

 He had to tell his sister the truth. He didn’t know if he could control Cipher for a few hours in a ballroom filled with party guests, especially after what had occurred with Wendy in _The Red Rat_.

 

 But the more he thought it over, the more Dipper dreaded explaining the unfortunate circumstances to his sibling.

 

 By the time he dressed and made it back to the lab to hopefully get some sleep, he was in a melancholy mood. The note was tucked into his vest still, out of sight, and he did not dare open it again. The mere thought of it caused his stomach to churn.

 

 Dipper glanced at Cipher’s favored top hat and cloak by the chair in the lab, laying untouched with a thin layer of dust open the brim of the hat. He ventured over cautiously, lest this cause another visit from the mad man sharing his body, and picked up the cloak. Wrinkling his nose at the sinister fabric (and pointedly ignoring the blood stained on the edges of the cloak), he watched as an envelope fluttered to the ground from inside of it.

 

 The sight was familiar, but not to _his_ eyes. The last time he had seen this envelope addressed to his sister was when Gideon was murdered. Cipher had taken it and apparently kept it without Dipper remembering.

 

 The doctor shuddered and picked it up, fingering the flap of the envelope. This would have revealed to the terrible truth to his twin, if Cipher had allowed it to fall into her hands before killing Gideon. Despite the awful intentions of the mad man, he couldn’t hide the twinge of gratefulness in his heart at the realization that Cipher had prevented such a thing.

 

_You are most welcome._

 

 Dipper let out a cry and dropped the envelope, his head aching dully as the inner voice chuckled at his outburst.

 

_Did you miss me, Pine Tree?_

 

 “No! No, I did not!”

 

 All of Dipper’s anger returned in a mere moment, the resentment and loathing for the person who had caused him so much pain over the last few weeks creeping back into his heart.

 

 “Why are you back? I told you to leave me be!”

 

 Cipher chuckled once more, enjoying the anger he felt from the doctor. _I think you are continuously forgetting that we are one and the same, Pine Tree. I cannot leave you, just as you cannot be rid of me._

 

 Dipper clenched his fists tightly, setting his jaw as he stormed over to where he kept the formula in its stand. “I have had enough of your ramblings! All you are doing is trying to ruin me, so just let me be at peace, demon!”

 

 _Ooh, I’m a demon now, am I?_ Cipher rather liked the sound of that title, despite it being meant as an insult. _You’ve gotten more creative with your titles now, eh? I think you are beginning to like me, Pine_ _Tree. I think you are growing a bit of a backbone as well, which good to see...but also a little is irritating, seeing as you continuously greet me with hostility._

 

 “I _hate_ you, I do not _like_ you,” snapped the man, adding a couple of drops into the test tube as he tried to clear his headache by forcing Cipher out somehow with his will. “I will never like you, especially not after everything you have put me through.”

 

 Cipher chuckled again. Pine Tree always found a way to make him laugh somehow. Oh, how he had missed this fleshbag.

 

_You amuse me, Pine Tree. Did you know that?_

 

 Dipper muttered something unsavory under his breath, causing Cipher to laugh once more. _Even though your stubbornness infuriates me occasionally, you always end up surprising me or being your regular amusing self._

 

 “Will you just _stop_?” Dipper felt as if his head were about to explode from the pounding pressure in his skull. “I’m glad I amuse you, but _you_ , on the other hand, are not. You are highly annoying and I would prefer it if you disappeared altogether, so _go away._ ”

 

 Cipher snickered. _Have you learned nothing Pine Tree? Nothing that you say can or will convince me to leave you be. We_ are _the same person, after all._

 

 “Stop saying that! We are _not_!”

 

_We share the same body. We share thoughts. We feel each other’s pain and have similar goals._

 

 “How on _earth_ are our goals similar?” The doctor demanded angrily, clutching the test tube tightly in one hand, his knuckles steadily turning white as snow. “You enjoy murdering people and ruining my life. I certainly don’t have those goals in mind.”

 

_It is the reasons why that make us similar, you see. I killed those people in particular not only because pain is hilarious, but because you disliked them. As for that redhead...she only died because you felt she was distracting and you wanted her to go away. I just handled the situation better, instead of writing her a letter she would never listen to._

 

 Dipper swore out loud, his head aching during the other’s speech. Cipher was wrong. Wendy would have respected his wishes and stayed away. She would have gone to the countryside and lived a merry life, far away from the murders and horror in London’s streets.

 

 If only he had let her.

 

 Cipher curiously listened to these thoughts, wondering how he had gotten stuck with such an impossible creature. Why was he so intrigued by these fantasies that would never be, impossible goals and dreams that could never occur because life just was not fair? So naïve... Hadn’t his punishment proved _anything_ to the man?

 

 _Pine Tree, I know you want to believe me. You may deny it all you wish, but I will always know it is true. I_ am _your heart, head, body, and soul._

 

 Dipper shook his head vigorously, the anger building up again inside. “No. You are nothing like me. You are a mad man created out of evil in mankind, and I am just an unlucky victim to its wickedness. Now _you_ listen here, Cipher: I am nearly done with my formula. I am going to drink this and destroy you, and that is that. You are never going to reign, because this is _my life_ , dammit! All you have brought me is terror and misery and death! This ends _now_!”

 

 He moved to add another drop of a brightly coloured chemical into the test tube, hearing a growl of warning inside his head. He knew Cipher wasn’t pleased with this revelation and had expected as much. The headache grew steadily stronger, scaring him slightly, praying that he would not attempt to destroy the formula like he had the first night. Not now, when he was so close again.

 

 _Oh, really?_ Cipher’s tone was soft and Dipper knew he was doomed. The fury was laced within the mad man’s words as he spoke, so quiet that you probably would not be able to tell unless you sat right next to him and listened (if he were a real person, of course).

 

 “Yes, you prick,” Dipper snapped, a small twinge of regret filling him as he heard yet another growl. Oh, he had really done it now.

 

 The doctor swirled the contents of the test tube around a little, gnawing his lower lip in concentration as he studied it worriedly. _Please don’t fail me now, science. Please work for me, just this one time._

 

 The liquid turned a dull red colour, reminding him eerily of blood, and Dipper shut his eyes tightly, fighting back the bile rising in his throat at the memory of _blood everywhere, all over his hands, all over their bodies, on Wendy’s pale skin –_

 

 _You disappoint me, Pine Tree._ He snapped out of his terrible memories at the sound of Cipher’s voice, which was something he had never dreamed would occur. _I expected so much more from you, you know... It really is a shame._

 

 Dipper did not reply, unsure what to say. Was this a prelude to another “punishment”? Was he about to take over? Or had he decided to crawl back into the recesses of his mind before reappearing at a much less suitable time?

 

 _But let me ask you this: do you really think that I would ever let you go? Do you really think I’d ever set you free? If you do, I’m sad to say, it simply isn’t so. Pine Tree, you will_ never _get away from me..._

 

 Dipper straightened, ready to tell off the disturbed voice, to tell him to leave him be yet again, but the headache subsided and all was silent for a good two minutes. He stood there, expecting another cackle or some sort of trick. Receiving none made the man worried; what was Cipher doing?

 

 _Perhaps he will be hiding for a while_ , said the hopeful part of his brain.

 

 Oh, he prayed that was true.

 

 The young man sighed to himself and studied the test tube for a few moments without speaking. Dare he test it again? If he did, would the results be worse than ever? Would Cipher be the sole heir to his body and destroy everyone in his path?

 

 Shuddering at the thought, he knew he had to do this. There was no other who could truly test out this formula, for _he_ had been the ignorant fool and tested it out upon himself. And now he alone had to fix this mess he had created.

 

 Dipper exhaled deeply, uncorking the formula and staring into the blood red contents with a sinking heart. He was ironically reminded of how he had spent time convincing himself that “this was the moment” to test the formula the very first time, and now he might have to do the same again for this second test.

 

 The mere memory of the mad man’s voice in his head gave the doctor chills and he tried to convince himself that this was not real.

 

_All that you are is the end of a nightmare._

 

 Dipper had to do this. For his family. For Wendy. For Soos. For all of London.

 

_All that you are is a dying scream._

 

 There was no choice this time around. He had to drink it and hopefully rid the world of this horrible mistake he had made. Perhaps Mabel would forgive him quickly and they could try to forget this ever happened.

 

_After tonight, I shall end this demon dream._

 

 Dipper lifted the test tube to his lips and drank the new formula with a heavier heart than the first time around. Once he drank almost all of it, he swallowed it with a burning throat and corked the remaining liquid swiftly, hoping to save some this time.

 

 The red liquid seared like burning coals, making him gag and choke on his own breath. Dipper fell to his knees, holding his throat and struggling for oxygen, wondering if he had done something absolutely terrible to this formula. _God, it feels worse than last time! Am I going to die choking on my own creation?_

 

 So it seemed.

 

 Dipper’s vision grew dark as he finally found that he could breathe somewhat normally, but he still ended up passing out. Although this time, he was not entirely sure whether this was for the better or the worse...

 

* * *

 

 

 Mabel stared blankly at the paper sticking out from underneath the lab door. She was unable to believe her eyes. Had he really attempted to communicate with her after so long? He was now ignoring Soos and Stan both, according to the butler, who often brought the latter with him to bring Dipper his meals. She couldn’t help but wonder if her brother had finally solved this mysterious issue that was causing her family so much grief and pain.

 

 She bent over cautiously, hearing no noise from the lab for once (which was a surprise) as she unfolded the paper in her hands. Her brown eyes widened as she read the few words written, recognizing the sloppy handwriting anywhere.

 

 He had _responded._

 

 Was the universe finally righting itself once more? Was everything going to be alright?

 

_Dear Mabel,_

 

 

_I will see you at the party._

 

_Love, Dipper_

 

 Mabel wiped at her tears, a happy smile springing to life on her face for the first time in forever. Maybe things _would_ be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason for this chapter title is because I think it fits this chapter...? Sort of? I also love Emma's song so it had to be in here somewhere, obviously. Sorry for the short chapter, but it's necessary before hell breaks loose. Nothing like an unlucky thirteen chapters, right?
> 
> ...We're almost to the end, guys. You're all going to murder me. I'm only warning you now: I WAS NOT LYING WHEN I PUT THESE WARNINGS UP ON THE FIC. BAD SHIT IS GONNA GO DOWN. NOT A HAPPY ENDING.


	13. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Death, violence, blood, suicide and all those other nasty things I have been hinting at for the entire story in the tags? As well as a NOT HAPPY ending?
> 
> Well, here comes the part where you all will want to kill me. If you dislike any of these things, do NOT read this chapter. (I'msosorryI'msosorryI'msosorryI'msosorry)

 Thursday rolled around far quicker than anyone in the Pines household had anticipated. They were far too consumed in spending time together for the first time in what felt like ages, Mabel constantly hugging her brother as if to be sure that he was really standing next to her. Stan glanced over at Dipper sometimes out of unease, but he made it clear that he too was glad to see the young doctor in the flesh, seeming to be more himself again. As a small celebration of this return, Soos made Dipper’s favorite meats for dinner the first two nights, winking at the man when he was given a look of surprise. Soos could not recall the last time he had been smiled at so warmly and genuinely, the “thank you” blatant in the younger’s eyes before he stared down at his plate with pink cheeks.

 

 As for Dipper himself, he couldn’t help but feel ecstatic. He had awoken on the floor in the lab, not hearing any voices, not feeling any headaches at all for the first time in a long while (although his throat did burn from time to time, which he hoped would fade away over time).

 

 Cipher, so it appeared, had gone.

 

 He had decided to enjoy his family’s company while it lasted, hoping that this formula was permanent so that he could explain to Mabel about what was going on while knowing that he would not double over in pain unexpectedly and transform into the mad man anytime soon.

 

 For one of the rarest times in his life, everything seemed to be going Dipper’s way.

 

 And this was exactly why the young man was frightened out of his wits with every passing second that he spent under the eyes of his family.

 

 Knowing Cipher could return, that the formula might only have prolonged his appearances, that the mad man would surely destroy him and his family if he came back...it was enough to keep Dipper in a regular state of terror whenever he decided to spend time with Mabel or Stan or even Soos. He didn’t know if the results were permanent, and that scared the hell out of him. If he had made _any_ sort of error with the new formula, if he had only prolonged the storm inside, then he needed to be on his guard constantly. Sure, he could spend time with the people who cared about him – he just needed to be certain that he was not making a huge mistake by letting them back into his life.

 

 One of the best ways to test the possibility of Cipher returning would be the party on Thursday. Dipper knew he needed to be prepared for any such appearance, but he couldn’t keep his family out of the link much longer. Stan already knew much more than his great-nephew had ever anticipated, and he really did not want to ask the man for assistance or alert him that there was a possibility that the mad man was not destroyed as he assumed.

 

 This feeling of constant unease put him at odds with Stan sometimes, who seemed to understand that Dipper still was worried (perhaps even understanding about what he _was_ stressing over) and was trying to speak with the doctor privately about the matter. The younger did not want to involve his great-uncle more than necessary, however. He could not afford to make another error that cost someone innocent’s life.

 

 There could not ever be another Wendy incident. Never.

 

 Dipper kept up his half-hearted joy and relief, his walls up and his eye wary when his family was not looking, for the remaining days until Thursday. He endured Mabel’s fussing over getting him a new suit for the celebration (which he soon learned was actually concerning Mabel being expected by some suitor who knew Grenda) and almost laughed genuinely at her reaction to seeing him in his new suit once he had it tailored. She was always the one who loved parties, socializing, and meeting new folk. The young doctor did not care for people, especially the snotty upper-class who looked down on any abnormalities in society. How so many people could not see that other than the champagne and glamour others “beneath” them were not so different amazed Dipper and disgusted him at the same time.

 

 It was only an hour before they had to leave for Mabel’s friend’s party, and the doctor was in his room, inspecting himself in the black suit he had gotten. It reminded him of shadows, so dark that no light seemed to gleam upon the material, his white shirt crisp and neat underneath for the first time in a very long while. Dipper touched his face, examining the fading bags under his brown eyes. He had not looked at himself in a mirror in weeks, not as himself at least. It was strange to think that he had changed in what was probably only a short amount of time.

 

 Nevertheless, it felt like years since he had begun dealing with Bill Cipher and it all was starting to fade like a bad dream now. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps he was being paranoid about all of this party excitement.

 

 Dipper glanced down at his hands, so pale in the light. He was suddenly hit with a glimpse of a memory – _walking away from something on the ground, laughing but it wasn’t_ his _laughter that he heard, his hands dirty and there was blood on his knuckles, quite hilarious really_ – and he gasped softly, staggering back with his eyes shut.

 

 That wasn’t him. It was Cipher.

 

 He waited for the visit, for the cackling higher-pitched voice to return, for the headaches, but there was nothing. Only the racing of his heart and his panting gasps for air.

 

 Was he going mad from the memories of his experiences? Was he just imagining the idea of Cipher’s return because he felt as if it was going to come back to haunt him?

 

 Dipper hesitantly opened his eyes, not daring to stare at his hands, and looked at himself in the mirror. He locked eyes with those dark brown irises and just stared openly for a few minutes, panting and struggling to catch his breath, to calm down after having a small panic attack (yes, that had to be it, he was only panicking, nothing was wrong).

 

 The fear reflecting back at him was worrying, making his body shake as he tried to remember something other than Cipher, other than the terrible mad man who had ruined his life.

 

 “Dipper?” He nearly screamed before covering his mouth at the sound of a small knock and Mabel’s voice. _Get yourself together. Nothing awful is going to happen, it is only your sister!_

 

 “Y-Yeah? Come in.”

 

 The bedroom door opened a little and Mabel peeked her head in, smiling wide and bright. Dipper’s heart lurched as he recalled how tearful and overjoyed she was when he appeared at the breakfast table that first day out of the lab, crying openly into his chest and yelling at him for being away so long. He vowed internally never to let such a thing separate them again, feeling as if his heart were threatening to tear in half as he concealed his sadness at the memory.

 

 “Oh, you’re dressed already! Me too.” She giggled and blushed pink. “Grunkle Stan got a bit angry, seeing as the party isn’t for another hour or so, but I love it so much I just could not take it off!”

 

 Dipper chuckled. That was exactly like his twin to wear something for longer than necessary, especially when concerning a party. “What does your dress look like?”

 

 She smiled wider at this inquiry and opened the door all the way, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes as it fell from where she had pinned it. Her brother could feel his heart flutter at the sight before him.

 

 Mabel was beautiful. Not that she wasn’t already, of course, but the dress she wore... It complimented her figure and was a vivid scarlet pigment, not overly blinding like some of her gowns, and had a heart-shaped neckline. It was not overly revealing or showing too much skin but it also wasn’t the normal style (she had most likely created it herself, now that he thought about it). Her hair was mostly down and brushed out so that her curls were more prominent and less messy, with some hairs pinned out of the way so you could see her face.

 

 _Any man would be lucky to have her as a wife_ , Dipper thought to himself, feeling self-conscious about his new suit now.

 

 “Well?” He blinked, realizing he had been silent for longer than necessary. Mabel was watching him expectantly, her smile twitching with nervousness. “How do I look?”

 

 “You...” Dipper swallowed hard as he considered what to say. “Mabel, you look _beautiful_. Did you make this?”

 

 His twin sister beamed brighter than he had ever seen her before and nodded vigorously. “Yes! It took me a good hour to find the right fabric, since I almost went with lavender, but I like the scarlet better. I was planning on using it for one of Stan’s parties but I felt like today was a good day to try it out.”

 

 “Well, you were right,” Dipper agreed with a small smile. “It looks beautiful on you.”

 

 Mabel moved forward and pulled him into an embrace before he could react. After a split-second, he returned the embrace, only to realize that his sister was trembling.

 

 Unsure whether this was good or bad, he frowned and asked, “Are you alright?”

 

 There was a brief silence, which scared the young man. Mabel had seemed so cheerful a moment ago; what had he said to make her unhappy now?

 

 “I missed you so much.” His heart cracked a bit at those few words, his throat constricting as he struggled not to begin shaking as well. “I thought you were going to remain there for a longer time because you weren’t talking to anyone, and I thought I was going to have to drag you out of that lab if you didn’t respond for any longer. Dipper, I-I thought I had done something wrong, that you were furious about the birthday celebration at first–”

 

 Dipper quickly hushed her, horrified that she had thought such a thing. “No, why would I be? Mabel, we fight often but I would _never_ deliberately avoid you because I was angry with you!”

 

 She sniffed and pulled back, looking at her brother with a tentative smile that made his heart ache out of sorrow. “I know, that was why I got worried. And you promised you would explain everything once you came out, when this whole mess was over.”

 

 “I will,” he promised, biting his lower lip. “This just... I may be wrong, but I do not think this is over just yet. But once I am positive, when I know for sure that everything is fine, I will explain everything. I won’t leave anything out, I swear to you.”

 

 Mabel smiled a little wider at his words. “Good. Just don’t take too long, okay?”

 

 “I won’t.”

 

_I hope._

 

* * *

 

 

 Dipper immediately disliked Mabel’s suitor when they arrived at the party. Grenda had been considerate and obviously tried her best to find someone who liked the same interests as her friend did, but the man they found made the doctor’s spine tingle unpleasantly. The man, Gabriel Benson, was just too... _eccentric_ for his taste.

 

 For starters, the blond was a bit obsessed with the idea of shows and theatre. He seemed a little vain as well (not as vain as Gideon, thankfully, or some of the other men he had noticed staring at her) and did not ask about his sister’s interests often, merely perking up as she mentioned having seen a show he had fancied.

 

 Dipper wandered off once the conversation got started, growing disinterested of this Gabriel fellow. To be honest, he was a bit pleased that his sibling would not be married off soon. He didn’t know if he wanted to deal with an empty estate just yet. She didn’t appear too taken by the young man, other than the fact that he was decently good-looking, which Dipper thought was relieving. He just hoped the suitor was not obsessive like Gideon had been.

 

 A sudden memory – _the neck snapping under his fingers, the pulse dying out like a flickering flame, his laughter echoing as he watched the body crumple to the ground like dirt_ – caused him to stagger backwards momentarily, nearly colliding with the blonde woman behind him. Breathing hard, Dipper murmured his apologies in case she had noticed and moved away to stand by the table near the end of the ballroom, praying that they would be granted food soon. Perhaps that would take his mind off of the horrible flashbacks he was experiencing.

 

 This was the second one today as well, which was a worrying thought. Was there a pattern to these? Would these memories be an issue later on? He prayed not.

 

 He glanced back at where Mabel stood with Gabriel, nodding and smiling about whatever story he was telling her. His heart warmed a bit at the sight of her being happy. At least she _seemed_ to be enjoying herself.

 

 “Dipper, are you alright?”

 

 He jumped at the sound of his great-uncle’s gravelly voice, looking back to see Stan peering with concerned eyes. He should have expected such a thing, given how much he knew about the younger’s situation over the past weeks, but it still made his heart flutter in anxiety at how concerned the man looked.

 

 “I am doing well, thank you. Are you enjoying the party?”

 

 Stan grunted, not seeming very convinced over his behavior, but let it drop. “You know I do not like parties much. This one is not an exception. Too many younger folk here, in my opinion.”

 

 Dipper fought back a smile at how similar the two were. How had he never noticed such a thing before now? “True, very true. What do you think of Gabriel?”

 

 If possible, the man’s dark eyes grew darker than they had been moments ago.

 

 “He looks more like someone who would care only for themselves. He would grow bored with your sister after a few years if they courted.”

 

 Dipper could not hide the smile now. At least _someone_ shared his concerns for Mabel. “Precisely my thoughts.”

 

 “Well, I had better go find some way to interrupt their conversation without being considered ‘rude’,” Stan said quietly, smirking at the doctor knowingly. “Just take care while we’re here, alright?”

 

 “I will.”

 

 Stan nodded and walked off, leaving Dipper to shut his eyes tightly for a moment and sigh in relief. As much as he appreciated his great-uncle’s concern for his wellbeing, the last thing he wanted was the man thinking that he was too weak to handle himself in public now. After Cipher, all that he wanted was to assure himself that everything would be alright and that he could bring things back to normal finally.

 

_I can do this. I can survive without being paranoid for another couple of hours._

 

 It was after about half an hour before Dipper ran into – quite literally – Gabriel again. He was on his way to speak with Mabel, wanting to spend his time at the party with someone who actually _wanted_ to speak to him, when he collided with the blond’s chest and nearly fell over onto his rear. Had he not been supported by Gabriel’s steady hand, he would have fallen.

 

 “Sorry! My apologies!” Dipper stammered, feeling himself flush in embarrassment.

 

 Gabriel merely chuckled and released his surprisingly tight grip on the man’s arm. “There is nothing to worry about. I should have been watching where I was going. Are you not Mabel’s brother? I cannot recall your name, sorry.”

 

 A strange feeling of unease spread over his body, which he shrugged off. “My name is Dipper, I do not believe I told you earlier. And I am indeed. Have you seen her? I was meaning to talk with her.”

 

 “It has been a few minutes since I last saw your sister, actually,” Gabriel said apologetically. The man’s hair was pulled back and as he shook his head, the ponytail nearly whipped by Dipper’s face.

 

 The feeling grew stronger and Dipper staggered back, frowning at the tugging in his gut. Something was wrong, very wrong. Every muscle and bone in his body screamed at him to run because he was in danger.

 

_What on earth...?_

 

 “Are you alright, Dipper?” Gabriel seemed genuinely worried at the man’s lack of response.

 

 The doctor’s vision blurred as he glanced around the ballroom, feeling dreadfully ill. He caught a brief glimpse of his great-uncle and his sister, both not far off from where he was. He saw Mabel meet his gaze, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of how pale he had gone and she began to move his way.

 

 Something inside him lurched at the sight. No, he didn’t like that for some reason. He didn’t know why, he just knew that something awful was about to occur, and that scared him.

 

 “Dipper?”

 

 Without any further warning, agony erupted inside Dipper’s body and he doubled over with a loud cry, clutching his stomach as a terrible headache raged in his skull. It felt as if every bone in his body were stretching, trying to pop out of his flesh and tear apart his veins.

 

 He could vaguely hear someone calling his name, asking him what was wrong, hearing whispers all around, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was the pain, and he couldn’t react properly to anything as he felt sick. His vision was darkening and he suddenly realized it had nothing to do with any natural causes or any sort of stress.

 

_Oh, dear god. No, no, no. Please, not now._

 

 A horrible cackle (so familiar, oh, _god_ , what had he done?) filled his ears as his vision faded and he shut his eyes, losing consciousness.

 

 For the first time in what felt like forever, Bill Cipher opened his eyes, grinning impossibly wide as he looked at Gabriel Benson, who was reaching out to him out of worry and confusion.

 

 “Allow me,” he hissed sweetly, the sound giving the blond chills for some reason he did not know.

 

 Cipher grabbed the other by the throat unexpectedly, causing the partygoers to cry out in shock and fear as the mad man strangled the would-be suitor for Pine Tree’s sister. He dropped the lifeless body to the floor as he heard gasps behind him, feeling disappointed at the lack of pain he was able to cause. Perhaps he could test it out on someone more suitable...

 

 “D-Dipper?”

 

 _Oh,_ _this is just delicious._ Cipher turned and met the gaze of Mabel Pines for the first time, smiling wider at the shock in her brown eyes. He spotted Stanford struggling to shove his way through the crowds to get to his great-niece, the horror written all over his face as he saw what was lying on the ballroom floor.

 

 “Dipper Pines is not here,” crooned the man, taking a step in her direction just to see how she would react. “The name’s Bill Cipher.”

 

 “Mabel, get back!” Stan shoved a young man aside and moved to stand in front of her protectively, breathing hard as he stared Cipher down.

 

 Mabel swallowed down a lump in her throat, not daring to look at Gabriel’s still form for fear of vomiting. “Wh-What’s going on? What’s wrong with Dipper?”

 

 Stan felt his heart ache at those words, knowing he should have suspected something akin to this would occur. Why had he been so foolish to believe that Dipper could finally control these possessions?

 

 “Mabel, darling... This is not your brother. This is an evil monster who sometimes...sometimes takes control and wreaks havoc. Do not get close to him, please.”

 

 Mabel’s mind was racing as she struggled to comprehend what her great-uncle was saying. Not Dipper? Monster? What did he mean? This different man, Cipher, had never shown his face before. So why now? She knew that she definitely would have noticed if someone like this had appeared –

 

 Her heart almost froze in its tracks as she realized what she had just thought. _Evil._ _Not her brother._

 

 She recalled what Dipper had told her about his experiments, about how he had made a formula that could separate the good and evil aspects of mankind, how he had been hoping for a test subject to perform the experiments on...and she _knew_.

 

 _Oh, no. Please, tell me I am wrong. Oh, god have mercy, what did you_ do _, Dipper?_

 

 Seeing the horror dawn on the brunette’s face, Cipher snickered. “Oh, how terrible the truth can be, yes? Pine Tree didn’t like the idea of telling anybody about me, especially not after his initial test after the party, you see, so I decided that I _had_ to do _something_ about it! After all...I’ve never been to a party before like _this._ How could I refuse your invitation, dear?”

 

 Mabel covered her mouth, staring into those brown eyes, trying to understand what she was slowly comprehending. This was Dipper’s evil aspect, this was a certified killer, _what had her brother done?_

 

 “Bring my great-nephew back _now_ ,” growled Stan, trying to mask his fear for the sake of his great-niece. He knew she had understood judging by her silence and by Cipher’s words, and he was not going to let this mad man touch her. “Leave him be!”

 

 The crowds murmured softly amongst themselves, backing away as Cipher glanced around him deviously. They didn’t know what to do or think; was this man mad? What was wrong with him?

 

 “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Stanford.”

 

 “Why _not_?” Stan fought the urge to punch the infuriating twat in the face, reminding himself that this was still technically Dipper.

 

 Cipher smiled evilly, moving a few steps toward the Pines family. The fun was just about to begin again. “Because I don’t want to.”

 

 With that, he charged, catching Stan by surprise and knocking him aside with his shoulder. The older man cried out, as did most of the room, and made to grab the mad man. Cipher elbowed him in the jaw as his large hand snagged his suit, laughing loudly at the jolt of pain in his own arm. _Boy_ , he had missed that sensation!

 

 Before anyone could move again, Cipher grabbed Mabel as she backed up, holding her against his chest and gripping her neck tightly with one hand. He nearly cackled again at the sight of all the colour vanishing in Stan’s face, Mabel’s heartbeat speeding up rapidly as she realized what he intended to do.

 

 “Don’t you dare,” snapped Stan, his voice steady. His eyes were wide with fright and worry though, giving him away.

 

 Cipher ran a hand down the woman’s cheek almost lovingly, laughing quietly at how she shut her eyes at the unwanted touch. “Or what? Whatever shall you do to me, Stanford? Kill me? Go on! I know you want to!”

 

 “No, Gru-Grunkle Stan!” Mabel’s cry startled everyone, even causing the mad man holding her to raise an eyebrow.

 

 “Mabel–”

 

 “It’s still him, don’t hurt him, please!” Mabel knew she was being ridiculous, that Cipher had to be destroyed, but it was still Dipper inside this terrible evil. Maybe she could convince him to fight back. He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , really hurt her, right?

 

 Stan shook his head, not noticing how his hands trembled ever so slightly. “I wasn’t planning on it. I just...”

 

 Cipher laughed at how weak the man looked, scared and still trying to mask the pain he felt at seeing his great-nephew and great-niece in this way. “Fools! You think you can stop me? How petty. And I thought Pine Tree was pathetic.”

 

 Mabel shut her eyes again, swallowing down her fright. _It’s Dipper. He won’t hurt you. He’s still in there, his heart still beats. You can get him to control this, you can do this._

 

 “Dipper, please,” she begged softly. “Please stop this. I know you can hear me, I know you feel like you can do this on your own. I _need_ you. Stan needs you. We all do, and we need you to control Cipher, please. Dipper, please...”

 

 Cipher shook with silent laughter at the young woman’s begging. “You think he can hear you? He’s not awake inside at the moment. Whomever you think will save you isn’t here! Although I do enjoy your begging. It reminds me of Red’s. She was fun to toy with.”

 

 Stan’s blood ran cold. No, he couldn’t mean... “That woman Dipper told me to give money to... You visited her.”

 

 “Of course! Third time’s the charm, yes?” Cipher chuckled at the memory of her demise. “She had a particularly painful end, though, did she not?”

 

 Stan felt sick. He had heard of a prostitute being killed, but had shrugged it off as nothing. Cipher must have awoken and murdered the poor woman. It would explain why Dipper had shut himself away so quickly after they had talked the day before. _God, why didn’t you just tell me that, Dipper?_

 

 “Dipper, I’m sorry,” whispered Mabel. She thought back to all of the murders she had heard of: Lord Robert, Lady Pacifica, Lord Gideon, this red-haired woman, and now Gabriel Benson. Cipher must have done these, tortured her brother with these crimes, forcing himself to shut himself inside the lab with no human contact. _He was trying to protect us from himself._ “I love you, no matter what. Please, stop this.”

 

 Something inside Cipher stirred, a familiar voice screaming to get free, and he gritted his teeth as an unbearable wave of agony overcame him within minutes. He lost his grip on the young woman, falling backwards, collapsing on the ground. He ignored the screams of everyone around him, ignored the people calling out. This pain wasn’t very funny. In fact, this one was... _agonizing._

 

 Dipper opened his eyes wearily, trembling as he felt the headaches pounding against his skull once more. People around him screamed as he lifted his head, only worsening his headache, his body weak from just awakening (even though he had technically been awake a mere moment ago as Cipher).

 

 “Dipper?”

 

 His heart nearly shattered on the floor as he remembered all that had occurred, and the doctor choked out a sob, looking up to see his sister ( _alive!_ ) watching him a few feet away. Stan looked ready to move in front of her if the need arose, his posture tense.

 

 “M-Mabel...” he groaned out, rubbing his head. He could hear Cipher yelling obscene things, wondering how he had been interrupted so fast, and knew he did not have much time before he lost whatever control he held over his own body to the mad man. “I’m s-sorry...”

 

 She rushed forward, hugging him tightly to his surprise. “You should have told me, Dipper! I could have helped you control this thing inside you.”

 

 Dipper shook his head, fighting his way out of the embrace, as much as he hated doing so. “N-No. That’s why I couldn’t let you help. He’s going to come back, he’s yelling at me now. M-Mabel, he’ll be back in a minute or two. Go...please.”

 

 “No! I won’t let Cipher hurt you like this,” she told him stubbornly, feeling terrible at the fear she saw in her twin’s eyes.

 

 Stan made his way over cautiously as some of the guests began to leave, looking terrified. “Dipper, I thought you had controlled this. You told me not half an hour ago that you were fine!”

 

 Mabel’s heart sank as his words sank in and her brother began to weakly protest. “Wait, you _knew_. You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

 

 “Your stubborn brother told me not to after I walked in and found Cipher waiting for me,” Stan said quietly, feeling the guilt pent up inside drip from his heart. “I personally loathed the idea.”

 

 “Dipper!” Mabel gave him a horrified look, to which he winced at.

 

 “G-Grunkle Stan...” Dipper hesitated as he saw his great-uncle make eye contact with him. “Please... D-Do it. What we talked about.”

 

 It took Stan a couple moments to register what the man was asking, and when he did, he felt physically sick inside.

 

 “Dipper, I can’t. I won’t.”

 

 “Please!” begged the doctor, the headache growing worse by the minute. Cipher was shouting louder, deliberately making it difficult to think. His body shook with spasms as he fought to control himself. “I cannot stop him!”

 

 “What about that new formula?”

 

 “It clearly doesn’t w-work!”

 

 “Dipper, you can’t ask me to do this. I won’t do this! There has to be a different option, something less drastic possibly–”

 

 “THERE IS NO OTHER WAY!” barked the young man, tears spilling down his face as he looked up at his elder. The sudden outburst startled both members of his family. “DO YOU THINK I WOULD ASK THIS OF YOU IF I HAD NOT TRIED TO THINK OF ANOTHER OPTION?”

 

 Mabel rested a hand on her brother’s shoulder, her heart sinking at how desperate he looked. This was taking a toll on him, and whatever Stan was refusing to do, it appeared to be something awful.

 

 Stan shook his head sadly, gripping his cane with white knuckles. “I am sorry. I cannot... I won’t do something like this.”

 

 Dipper’s head was searing in pain. He could barely see straight, let alone hold himself up with both hands. His brown eyes managed to focus on the cane, terror and desperation overcoming his limbs as tears ran freely down his face.

 

 “I am sorry for everything. Please forgive me.”

 

 Before they could stop him, he tore the cane out of Stan’s grip, the swordstick inside popping loose, and withdrew the weapon Cipher had used often to kill his victims. His heart laden with grief, the doctor impaled himself with it as his sister realized what he was about to do and screamed his name.

 

 Mabel was screaming at the top of her lungs, lunging for her twin as he too yelled, but in pain. Stan cried out as she cradled Dipper to her chest, despising how the blood appeared not to show up on her red gown. She sobbed as he clutched at her hand, his pulse fading as Stan withdrew the swordstick carefully, horror showing on both of their faces.

 

 “I love you,” Dipper whispered, his eyes flitting to both of his family members. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

 

 “I love you too, you thick moron,” Mabel choked out through her tears. She wiped away her brother’s tears as he began to grow cold.

 

 Dipper smiled to himself as he heard no sound of Cipher any longer, reminding himself that the battle was finally over. He had won.

 

 “He’s...not in my head anym-more.”

 

 Mabel sniffed and bent her face down so that they were almost touching. “G-Good.”

 

 “Dipper, I’m sorry,” Stan said, his voice unusually soft.

 

 The doctor shook his head with as much strength as he could muster. “Not y-your f-fault. Take...care of M-Mabel, please.”

 

 Mabel felt as if her world was crumbling beneath her feet in moments. She sobbed harder and clutched her brother’s broken body to her chest tighter, her body shaking as she felt bile rise in the back of her throat. “Don’t leave me, _please_. I’ve already lost Mum and Dad. I can’t lose you too, Dipper.”

 

 His still beating heart ached at the memory of his mad parents. He hoped that somewhere in their broken minds, they would understand why he had done this. _Please forgive me._

 

 “I’ll be in your heart, I promise. I promise... I’m sorry...”

 

 And Dipper Pines drew his final breath, not seeing how his twin sister broke down and their great-uncle held her close by the time Scotland Yard arrived twenty minutes later.

 

 He never knew anymore pain, for he was never to be haunted by Bill Cipher or his crimes again.

 

* * *

 

 

 He was jerked back out of his memories as he noticed Mabel crouching before the grave, the new black tombstone sitting ominously before them both. They alone had bothered to stay after the brief funeral, only a select few people attending the depressing ceremony (mostly Mabel’s friends who knew that they should attempt to comfort the poor woman by making some sort of appearance).

 

 Mabel sniffed as she fought back tears, failing as she stared at the name written on the stone. He felt his heart ache painfully at the terrible sight and wished it was someone else in her place, anyone except for the once happy woman.

 

 How could anyone deal with such a fate?

 

 _You should have warned her. You should have left him at home. You should have done_ something _, you coward._

 

 He flinched at the hissing of a voice inside his head, telling all the things he could have done instead. Remembering the incident had done nothing but remind him of why he hated graveyards and why he wished he were anywhere else.

 

 If only he could go back in time and repair this. If only he could save the brilliant doctor from this awful fate, stop him from testing that goddamn formula, save him from ruining lives.

 

 Instead, he was stuck in this tragedy, stuck with the terrible end, and Stan Pines despised every last minute of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you. I warned you all. This was probably one of the most difficult chapters to write (not the actual death, surprisingly, but Mabel's reactions to it). I'm so sorry.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read or commented on this story. I can't believe I actually finished posting it all since I first finished it for NaNoWriMo last year. Please read my other stories here on Ao3 and have a lovely day!


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